


I'm Not A Menace

by FandomsMadeMe



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 15 years old Peter, Alternate Universe, English, F/M, High School, Hurt Peter, Identity Reveal, Misunderstandings, Protective Avengers, Secret Identity, Secrets, Team as Family, a bit of blood, i don't know how to tag, not following any timelines, peter is not an avenger, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomsMadeMe/pseuds/FandomsMadeMe
Summary: Peter Parker wasn’t the reason why an alien invasion almost took place, he wasn’t the reason why a whole country fell out of the sky, and he wasn’t the reason why a whole army of robots decided to drop a country from the sky. Heck, he wasn’t even there to witness everything in first hand.In fact, he was no famous hero.Just a local hero who focused more on petty crime, and maybe on villains who thought that wearing zoo animal costumes would be fit against fighting ‘Spider’-Man.And yet, the Avengers were still set on capturing him.He should really sue the Daily Bugle





	1. And You Are Such Puny Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get angry, but yes I am not following any timeline of some sort.
> 
> It's like i made a whole different story using scenes from the films. at first i decided to base it more on the comics, then again people would relate more if it's based on films.
> 
> So instead, I decided to jumble everything and make my own version of how I want things to go. It might be biased, and the plot might sound really meh or _what the f*ck_ but give it chance.

Peter glared at the newspaper in his hand, the front page declaring another wrong assumption about Spider-Man. Maybe the bank did get caught on fire, but that wasn’t his fault, not entirely. He doesn’t really know how to deactivate a grenade, and there wasn’t actually enough time to mop up the gasoline.

He supposed that webbing up the lunatics who thought that bombing a bank was a good idea was enough, and maybe leaving a note was an enough explanation for his side of the story. But apparently, assuming is not a good thing to get used to.

Peter crumpled up the newspaper and threw it at the nearest trashcan.

“A fan of Spidey?” The old man at the newspaper stand asked, he too was reading the morning newspaper.

Peter shrugged and hitched up his backpack, “I just don’t understand why they’re all blaming it on him, I mean he’s not doing anything wrong.”

The old man chuckled, “You’re too young to understand things kid,” he said, and Peter fought hard not to seem impolite as he stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“Is it because he won’t tell who he is, is that it?” Peter asked, ignoring the nagging voice at the back of his head that he’s running late.

“Yes, I think that’s one of the reasons why,” The old man answered, setting down his newspaper.

Maybe he’s right, not knowing who it is behind the mask may be one of the reasons, but it would really mean a lot if the other reasons were actually announced. Not ridiculous explanations like being a ‘wanna-be-hero’ who causes mayhem. That was actually the newspaper headline for a whole month.

“How about you? Do you hate him?” Even with how many times he tells himself that other people’s views about him doesn’t matter, he knew it’s not really fooling himself.

“Nah, kid. I think he have his reasons,” He chuckled and stared at the distance, “I mean he saved my daughter ones, how could I hate him? And besides, it’s good to know that someone cares for the little guys.”

Peter tried, and failed, not to smile. 

Who cares what the media says, it’s not like the Avengers are saying anything wrong about him. Maybe they’re even glad that someone’s taking care of the things they can’t.

===

The Avengers hates him.

Maybe hate is a strong word, maybe dislike would be more appropriate. Then again, dislike isn’t also the right term. S.H.E.I.L.D. decided to side with the media’s thought’s about Spider-Man, and the live announcement they did made it pretty obvious.

And now, it has been made aware that capturing Spider-Man is a must.

“This is ridiculous,” Peter muttered.

“What’s ridiculous?” Ned asked.

Ned never thought that Spider-Man’s a menace, to begin with everyone with enhance abilities seem to be a hero to Ned, not until they decided to blow up a building.

Sure, they’ve already spent half of lunch period talking about Spider-Man’s situation as unfair, but he still wouldn’t understand how the circumstances is really pissing Peter off. For all he knows, Peter’s another nerd who thinks the same way as he does.

“The Spanish quiz, it’s ridiculous,” which wasn’t entirely a lie.

Ned shrugged, “Do you have any plans tonight?” he asked “I just got this new Lego set—”

“Sorry Ned, but I have plans,” Peter cut off, like swinging from building to building across Queens.

“With who?” Having one friend throughout his life really have a lot of down sides—even if it’s still better than being alone, making up excuses is slowly becoming a chore.

Peter fought back from biting his inner cheeks, “With… aunt May.”

Ned shrugged and went back to his food.

It was a miracle Ned didn’t pried more answers, but it was pretty obvious he’s just grown tired with all Peter’s excuses. Something Peter himself is aware of.

As the bell rang, Peter fixed his stuff and left for his next class. He passed by the bulletin and saw something that caught his attention. The headline of today’s newspaper was pinned on it.

Peter glared at it, and if looks can set fire, the piece of paper should have been in ashes right then.

He stopped a car from crashing into a bus, he was charged for denting the car. He saved people from a burning building, he was charged for physical harm because of the burns the survivors acquired. He captured the people who blew up the bank from downtown, he blew up the bank.

He captured the ridiculous guy who claims himself as Scorpion, he was charged for public disturbance and for wrecking a part of the city. He sent another ridiculous person who was dressed up as a Kangaroo, he’s still a public menace. He even caught Vulture and stopped him from stealing stuff from Iron man himself and he’s still a menace.

The people sitting doesn’t seem to know how to say thanks.

And now the Avengers seem to think the same.

Can’t they see that he’s just helping? He can’t handle another Uncle Ben moment. And maybe being a hard-headed teen is also one of the reasons, but couldn’t they spare a glance at what he’s actually doing.

He continued to curse the Daily Bugle, the government, and the Avengers—though he would still admit that they’re cooler than Star Wars—maybe not cooler, but a little less cool. He swung through the city of Queens, his eyes peering for any disturbance. Maybe no one was currently on his side, but that won’t stop him from doing patrols.

Sure the Avengers had just announced that capturing Spider-Man is something they would gladly do, but it’s not like they would put that in immediate action.

Apparently he’s wrong.

He was seated on top of one of the buildings swinging his legs when he felt the familiar tingling at the back of his neck. He was expecting a small mugging from below, or another bicycle thief. He was certainly not expecting an Iron clad man staring at him in the face.

“Hey there Mister Spider,” He said

Peter blinked, which was left unnoticed due to his masked, his legs stopping in mid swing. How he did not notice Iron Man was beyond him. “Hi?” Peter offered.

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to run, but being face to face with one of the mightiest heroes may have paralyzed his inner fan-boy—scratch that, inner nerd.

“Listen, I’m going to make this easy for the both of us,” He said as Peter peered down before poking at the man’s suit, _yup Iron Man’s certainly flying in front of me_. “And I’m just going to ignore what you just did,” He said pausing, “Either you come with me right now, or I force you to.”

Peter tilted his head to the side “I think I’ll take the third option,” He said blood pounding in his ears. Tony Stark, the Iron Man, is here in front of him and god knows what’ll happen.

“And that is?”

“This,” Peter said and shot a web at Iron Man’s face.

“Son of a—” Without further ado, Peter jumped and found himself freefalling before shooting a web and swinging himself away from the Iron clad hero.

“I’d love to chitchat but I need to do this thing called getting away from you!” Peter flung himself, narrowly avoiding a few pigeons and a few billboards. 

The sound of thrusters approaching him sent him to panic, unlike Iron Man and Falcon, he can’t really fly to save his life thus he found himself cursing as he veered and zigzagged away from his pursuer as if his life depends on it. Which may actually be.

“Aw shit,” Peter cursed as he felt the canister of his web shooter empty out. He found himself freefalling again, this time he went straight inside an empty dumpster. 

_What are the odds,_ Peter thought grimly.

To say that it was the first was a complete lie, for some reasons he would always crash land on a pile of garbage. If he was lucky, a dump truck. This was actually a first for an empty dumpster, then again he would like it if it was full of garbage. At least it’ll cushion his fall.

Grabbing another canister from his belt, Peter fumbled at it as he tried to reload his web shooters. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” He cursed as he jumped out of the dumpster, ignoring the pain on his back due to impact.

_What a perfect moment to be out of web fluids, thank you universe._

Just as he was finishing up, the tingling sensation on the back of his neck went haywire. Without looking, Peter grabbed the dumpster and threw it before he could even turn to see who it was. Technically he already know who it is.

Not bothering if he hit him or not, Peter bolted away, swinging off. The sound of metal hitting metal told him he could be a good dodge ball player—if the ball was replaced with a dumpster.

Peter swung off to a tight alleyway and tried to calm down and focus. If he could hide some place he wouldn’t find him, maybe he could survive the night. He still have that bio quiz to worry about and getting caught is not on top of his list.

Maybe running away isn’t the best decision, he knew that. But he has been explaining his side of the story for the past year he’s been Spider-Man, another set of negotiation will obviously not help him. If his identity gets out, how can he protect aunt May? In the first place, she was the reason he became spider-Man, her and Uncle Ben.

The Avengers weren’t there to save Ben, they weren’t there to save people from the burning building, heck they weren’t even there to stop Scorpion from wreaking havoc.

Yes, they are the ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’, but they’re not really enough.

Running away is the only best option at the moment.

His thought were forced to a stop as he narrowly avoided the incoming arrow his way, his spider sense saving his ass. Peter shot a web straight to a street lamp, swinging a complete 360 before landing on top of it.

His eyes scanned the area, searching for the person who shot the arrow. The sudden tingling from his nape made him do a flip as another arrow narrowly missed him. He landed back on top of the lamp when his eyes landed on a man on top of one of the buildings not too far from him.

“Are you trying to kill me?!” Peter screamed as the people still lounging around the city started running for shelter, only for another arrow went flying straight towards him. Whoever this person was, Peter do not like him. “There’s this thing called Human Rights, you should really give it a check!”

He wasn’t expecting him to actually shoot as he was talking, then again no one talks in a middle of a fight. The arrow landed between his toes, creating a hole on his suit.

“Dude, you almost shot me!” He screamed when he noticed that the arrow was actually different looking.

_Oh my god, is that a sedative?!_

Something clicked inside his head as he realized who this person was. Groaning, Peter shot off another web and swung away, each narrowly missing every arrow Hawkeye shot at him.

_This is ridiculous!_

A blast over his head sent him falling again that night, he was lucky he didn’t end up in another dumpster. His landing wasn’t that bad, maybe he’ll wake up with a bruise or two, but it wasn’t that bad. _Oh who am I kidding, this is fucking excruciating!_ He thought as he pulled his face out of the cemented road.

Looking up, he realized that Iron Man finally found his way to the party, and was apparently the cause of his web being blasted in half.

The thought of Hawkeye and Iron Man openly firing at him was sending his nerves on panic. Sure they weren’t really killing him, but he really hates pain. Who doesn’t anyway? And the idea of new bruises was not appealing, considering that having a building drop on him may have left him walking in pain for a week.

There was no way he can run away from two Avenger just by running. So even with Iron Man’s blasters, swinging it is.

The number of times he crash land on his face that night was ridiculous, it wouldn’t surprise him if a tooth or two would end up missing from his mouth. He almost crashed on an old man at one instance.

“C’mon man, give me a break!” Peter shrieked.

He saw Hawkeye on top of another building near him, how he got there was beyond him, and Iron Man not too far. Without thinking much, he shot a web straight towards Hawkeye’s chest and glued his feet on the ground. This was the only resort he could think off.

“Man, I’m so sorry about this!” He screamed and the last he saw was Hawkeye’s wide eyes before pulling him out of the edge of the building.

People were screaming, and cars were screeching to a halt with Peter standing in the middle of the road, but he couldn’t really care less at the moment.

“Holy shit!” Iron Man exclaimed as Peter pulled Hawkeye straight towards Tony, the sound of flesh hitting metal was suddenly so traumatizing.

Peter didn’t bother to look at his work, instead he screamed for another apology and found himself glued at some alleyway.

His breathing was still erratic, and Peter was suddenly well aware with all the bruise from crashing down on dumpsters and street, and on the occasional cars as well.

His breathing showed no evidence of slowing down when his spider sense screamed at him, sending electric shock across his spinal cord. Instinct made him grab the edge of the building as he shot a loose web at the fire escape and slingshot himself to another building.

“Oh, come one!”

Peter ended up glued at the side of another building, his hands and feet pressed on the wall, as he saw Hawkeye standing on the previous spot he was standing on.

“Shit that was close,” Peter muttered as he climbed up the building.

“Holy shit—is he climbing?” He could hear Stark complaining at someone, or maybe at Hawkeye, something about not knowing about this.

_I guess Youtube isn’t famous in your part of town._

Peter found himself jumping from different parts of the wall as arrow by arrow was fired at him. The sound of Iron Man’s thrusters reached his ears as he kicked himself off the wall, his back barely grazing the top of Iron Man’s helmet. He shot a web towards Iron Man’s back and pulled him close, using him as some trampoline as his feet clung at the back of his suit before pushing off.

“Aw shit!” Was Tony’s words as he ended up crashing, creating himself a permanent Iron Man shaped crater on the side of the building.

He didn’t know whether it was luck, or the universe siding with him for ones, but he ended up landing straight on Hawkeye’s back. Sending him face planting on the sidewalk. Who knew he could jump that far.

“Well that was fun,” Peter stared at Hawkeye, “who knew you could be a good floor matt.”

Peter looked up and saw Iron man slowly extricating himself from the wall. Tired and sore, Peter webbed Clint on the ground, apologizing on the process.

“Hey quit it!” Clint ordered, his voice muffled.

Peter climbed off of Clint and focused on the other Avenger. Stepping back, Peter bolted and climbed up the wall before jumping on Stark’s back, pushing him deeper on the side of the building. He could probably see the people inside the building by now. Peter almost emptied up his second batch of canister on Iron Man. Ten layers wasn’t enough, but it’s not like they want them permanently kissing cement.

“Stark I blame you for this!” Clint screamed, "We should have contacted Cap!"

“I’m not the one who keeps missing his shots!” Tony exclaimed, his voice a lot less muffled.

“Nah you guys just suck,” Peter said, his heart still erratic. Even though he knew that this was the moment to shut up, he tends to do the opposite. In fact, if they’re about to fight, in the middle of a fight, and after a fight, Peter can’t seem to stop his motorbike of a mouth. In fact, this was the first he barely opened his mouth while fighting. “The webs will dissolve in about two hours by the way, enough for you to rethink your life choices.”

“You know,” Clint said, still looking ridiculous with now covered in web, “You are one hell of a menace”

“And you are such a puny man,” Peter said, though still shaking from head to toe with how the situation was heading. He actually got away—that if he stop talking and actually run off, “And you call yourselves Avengers.”

“I’m calling Fury,” Tony declared from his spot.

“And I’m calling that as my cue to leave,” Peter said. Defeating two Avengers was tiring as hell—maybe defeat’s a strong word but it’s not like Peter cared for another synonym for it, with S.H.I.E.L.D involved, he might not see the daylight of tomorrow. “I had fun, let’s do this again sometime.”

And then he left.

So maybe his first meeting with two of the Avengers didn’t go so well, at the bright side he’s still uncaught. He just wish he could always outrun them. He can’t really continue fighting them off, he’s sore all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read this until the end I love you and you're amazing! It would really mean a lot if you give your thoughts. This is actually the first Marvel based fanfic I have ever made.
> 
> I've decided to do a lot of research and read other fics-I know pathetic, but I'm actually too lazy so I haven't-sue me. I'm more of the research through movies and comics kind of person- whatever you want to call it.
> 
> So if it's bad leave a comment, and if you love it, then please leave a comment. It would really mean a lot.
> 
> P.S. I'm a shipper of Michelle and Peter, but I don't know whether to add that kind of story arc here. I just don't think it'll work, thoughts?


	2. You Know, I'm Kinda Broke So...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decided to patrol, it's not like the Avengers are going to look out for him every night right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second chapter, I wasn't planning to post it until next week but then again, why not now?

“What happened to your face?”

Peter looked up from the bowl of cereals he was eating and saw his aunt looking at him. She was leaning on the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She was halfway from looking concerned and looking annoyed.

“I, uh—I tripped,” Peter shoved a spoonful of cereals to his mouth, denying himself to speak knowing that lying was never his forte around aunt May.

“You tripped?” May repeated, now looking a lot concerned and unconvinced.

The bruises he acquired from last night was halfway from disappearing—thanks to enhance healing, but the problem was it still remained there. Tripping seem to be more plausible at the moment, considering that he spent half of the fight face planting.

“Yeah I tripped,” He said and finished off his cereal, “I’m gonna head out now, don’t want to miss the bus again.”

He grabbed his hoodie by the counter before kissing his aunt goodbye and ran off, want nothing more but to avoid his aunt’s knowing looks. Sometimes he wonders if she could actually read his mind sometimes.

“Be careful!” She called.

Peter pulled the hoodie over his face, “I will!”

Spider-Man’s fight with Hawkeye and Iron Man was all over the morning news that morning. The fact that they lost over a local hero—or menace or whatever it is they call him, was beyond humiliation, especially to Tony’s part. They refused to give any statement about the fight last night. If only the media would do the same. He could barely finish his cereal with the TV blaring about how an ungrateful bastard Spider-Man was to the Avengers on the background.

As soon as he was greeted with buzzing of morning commuters, Peter made a beeline to the newspaper stand near the apartment and purchased a newspaper. He pulled down the hood of his jacket and read the headline for the day, only to have a permanent frown on his face.

_Of course, the Daily Bugle just has to compete with every news about me._

He wasn’t really expecting good news, in fact he knew he wasn’t going to expect any remarks about his side of the story. How he was only minding his own business when two of the Avengers thought it was a good idea to play Tag with him—but when you get tagged you’ll find yourself in a jail cell.

Peter sighed and threw the newspaper at the nearest trashcan. _Peter, remind me again why you bother to read the news._

“That’s some bruise you got there kid,” Peter looked up and saw the old man from yesterday looking at him. He was pointing at his face.

Peter bit the inside of his cheeks. “It’s uh, nothing—I er, tripped,” he answered a bit too casually.

The old man stared at him. “You tripped?” He repeated, almost sharing the same exact look his aunt gave him.

“Yeah, nothing big.”

The old man shrugged and continued to read the newspaper, only to speak again, “Did’ja win?”

“Huh?”

The old man looked at him again, “Kid, ‘m old, I know a fight when I see one. So did’ja give the other guy a fight?”

Peter awkwardly adjusted one of his backpack’s strap on his shoulder. “I guess,” he answered.

“Must be happy,” the old man went back to his newspaper and flipped a page, “take care of your self will yah? I don’t like a morning where I don’t see you getting angry at the morning paper. Kinda starts my day yah know.”

Peter just smiled.

He doesn’t really know whether winning was a good thing, in fact he doesn’t really know whether to feel happy about it. He’s just relieved he got away. But as he rode the bus seating next to Ned, they passed by the Iron Man shaped crater— which Peter found rather uncomfortable knowing that he was partially responsible of the damage, he realized even that wasn’t going to last.

He was just lucky last night, and he can’t always depend on luck when most of the time it’s always kicking him up the ass. That led him to a decision he never thought he’ll ever actually do: skip patrolling for the next few nights.

To him it was the most ridiculous decision he had ever made, but it was the only way to avoid the Avengers. He promised himself that it won’t take forever, just until the Avengers mellow down a little and focus on more pressing matters than capturing a certain wall climber.

For the meantime, Ned’s giving him this look.

“What?” Peter finally asked after the tenth time he noticed Ned opened his mouth, only to shut it again at the corner of his eyes.

Ned gave him this look that meant, seriously? “What kind of plans did you and your aunt made exactly?”

He mentally cursed and pulled back the hood to cover his face, “Ned chill, I just tripped last night.”

“You tripped?” Now it was Ned’s turn to share the same look May and the old man gave him.

Peter squirmed in his seat, “Down… the stairs?”

Ned’s face immediately changed, Peter sometimes forgets that he’s friends with a gullible person. “Oh my god, seriously? Are you okay? We’re still on with the Star Wars marathon right?”

“Dude, that’s like a week from now,” Peter said, “Of course that’s still happening.”

Ned sighed and slumped on his seat, “You better not ditch me again—it’s Star Wars for crying out loud. If I— Oh, I almost forgot to show you something” He adjusted his bag and placed it on his lap and rummage for his phone, “Check this out.” His fingers flew across the screen and Peter found himself watching a video of his alter ego pulling Hawkeye by the web and slamming him to Iron Man.

The shot was a headache to watch, the camera kept moving and it was obviously taken from a place far from the actual fight. The audio was mostly filled with screaming people, but watching Hawkeye slam into the iron clad hero left him squirming.

“That must’ve hurt,” Peter said trying to act casual, but his voice betrayed him.

Ned doesn’t seem to notice, in fact he was watching his phone excitedly “Guess who took this? Huh, huh, guess who.”

“You were there?” Peter asked startled.

“Awesome right? I happen to be in the neighbourhood, and it was probably the best day of my life. Everyone was taking cover, and I happen to finally see Iron Man in real life—so awesome. But then the fight moved to a different spot, I tried to follow but they were too fast—I almost got hit but it was totally worth it. Did you know that Hawkeye can make temporary zip lines?”

“You tried to follow—almost got hit?” Peter spluttered as he looked at Ned with pure distress, “Dude you could have gotten hurt, haven’t any of Cap’s PSAs taught you anything?”

“Dude, chill out,” Ned said, pocketing his phone, “I wasn’t even that close to begin with, I know you would’ve done the same thing.”

Not really, Peter would most likely join the fight.

“Seriously Ned, you could’ve gotten hurt,” Peter internally winced from his words, he could be such a hypocrite sometimes.

“You know, your aunt is finally rubbing off on you. You sound definitely like her right now,” Peter rolled his eyes.

As the traffic light turned red, the bus stopped and something caught Peter’s attention by the window. The boutique his aunt usually visits was covered in barricade tapes.

“What the hell happened here?” Peter asked looking at the damaged boutique.

He felt Ned shift in his seat and peer at the window, “Ah that, a few muggers took advantage of the fight between Spider-Man. It was in the morning news, I bet you fifty bucks the Daily Bugle’s blaming this on Spider-Man.”

Peter slumped down on his seat, this was all his fault. He was too busy saving his own ass, he forgot why he was patrolling in the first place, or how he ended up fight.

He can’t let it happen again, he can’t afford to skip patrol. Maybe at some other night, but not tonight.

One night and a business was victimized.

Peter sighed as the bus finally moved again, he guess he’s not going to follow his early decision. Maybe, if he lessen his swinging and avoid locations crawling with CCTVs—which he now knows by heart, the Avengers won’t notice him.

===

“C’mon sweetie, let’s play,” The drunk man purred as the woman he was cornering pressed herself further against the wall.

“Get away you asshole,” She growled as her eyes darted to her bag across the other side of the alleyway.

The man frowned and suddenly produced a knife from the inside of his jacket, “Still don’t want to play?”

“Ooh a knife, me like to play,”

The man yelped as a web got shot at the back of his neck and was pulled off the ground, his arms and legs flailing as he screamed profanities. Spider-Man stared at him as he hung upside down, a string of web as his only support, before shooting another one to cover the man’s mouth.

“Good god man, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He asked as the man continued to let out muffled words—possibly curse words that’ll give him a shortcut to hell.

Spider-Man tilted his head up and stared at the upside down image of— _Michelle?_ What is she doing here at this hour?

“You okay ma’am?” She didn’t reply. “You want him as a piñata or glued to the wall?” He asked as she continued to stare at him.

“I was doing just fine,” She said before taking long strides and picked up her bag across the alleyway.

“Yeah you were,” Peter pulled himself upright and used both his feet to push the drunk man towards the wall. Before he could even swing forward, Peter shot a web gluing him in place.

“Mind calling the cops,” He asked as he landed on the ground with a soft thud with the guy’s muffled screams playing on the background. But as soon as he turned to look at Michelle, she was already on the phone.

“Already did,” she shut her phone and her eyes travelled to the glued man on the wall before landing on the wall crawler himself, “thanks I guess”

Peter blinked, It wasn’t everyday Michelle says thanks, especially to him—even though they practically share a table at lunch. Then again, he’s technically not Peter, “No problem, you should—”

She cut him off, “You look taller in the photos.”

He stared at her— _excuse m- what?_

“No I’m n—” Peter caught himself, “As I was saying, you should probably scram now. You know, go home, make yourself a hot chocolate, or maybe a sandwich—depends on you.” He paused, still bothered by the comment “You’re just freakishly tall, that’s all.”

Michelle snorted and left.

“Well that was weird,” Peter muttered, only to be interrupted as the man’s muffled screams got louder. He groaned before facing the drunk bloke, “You don’t know how to shut up do you?” The man continued to scream, “Well, that makes the two of us.”

It approximately took ten seconds for Peter to leave the alleyway, leaving an unconscious man webbed on the wall and a note explaining his side of the situation—like it was going to make a difference.

So far the night was going smoothly, he was able to stop a few teens from spray painting private properties, managed to save Michelle from a drunkard—still couldn’t believe it actually happened, and no sign of the Avengers. Then again, they’re probably busy people, they don’t have time to watch him every day.

Calling it a night, Peter flung himself towards the rooftop of his apartment complex, where he left his bag with his change of clothes. He expertly swung from building to building, avoiding the parts with CCTVs.

He landed with a soft thud on the concrete before doing a backflip— because why not, he most certainly felt like doing one. The night was going smoothly and he was coming home early, maybe his luck isn’t running out after all.

A tingling sensation at the back of his neck forced him to halt his little celebration. _Huh, that’s weird._

It wasn’t the first time his spider sense misled him, sometimes it would go haywire just because Flash was entering the room, or when he was passing by a pet store with a dog outside. But those were his first days as an enhanced human, now he’s not so sure if his senses have a mind of its own and was messing with him.

_Plop!_

Peter’s head snapped up and saw Hawkeye, a sandwich in his mouth, and a bag of more sandwiches on the ground.

The two blinked at each other, but it’s not like the older man was going to see it. _So much for avoiding the Avengers._

No one moved, which may have confused Peter. Hawkeye wasn’t doing anything, he was just staring at him like he had just grown two heads. And as for Peter, he was a little shaken. Was it just coincidence, or did the older man really know that they’re standing on the building he lives in.

Peter heard static, _“Hey, status report”_ a voice that sounded more like Stark said.

_Right, comms…_

_…_

_Shit, comms!_

There was silence and Hawkeye doesn’t appear to be answering the question anytime soon. Possibly unaware with Peter’s enhance-hearing.

 _“I’m not getting any younger here, Clint.”_ More static.

Peter flinched as the other man spat the sandwich from his mouth, _“where you eating?”_ comes another static voice of Tony Stark.

“I found the bug,”

Suddenly everything was moving, as if Clint said the magic words to unstop everything.

Peter found himself running towards the edge of the building, no plan in mind, just aware that the night’s going to be longer than he thought it should be. And here he thought he was actually done for the evening, he was this close from his bag.

“And he’s getting away!” was the last of what Peter heard before jumping at the side of the building.

He shot a web as he heard Clint scream something at the comms, “I’d like it more if you were deaf!” Peter exclaimed before swinging away from the apartment.

His spider sense prickled as he heard something like a metal slicing through air, _fwip!_

His web snapped as he saw Captain America’s shield soar over his head. Peter caught himself from crashing into a building by twisting his body in the air and grab hold on the handles of one of the fire escape. He propelled himself up and landed smoothly on the platform.

“Well isn’t it Mister Spangles himself,” Peter jeered, trying to hide the terror in his throat, _Please tell me they I won’t be facing all the Avengers_ “haven’t you ever thought of retirement? I heard you’re getting way too old for this.”

“I already had enough years of rest,” He replied casually.

The hairs on Peter’s nape stood up as he ducked away from an incoming arrow, the said arrow getting embedded on the building wall.

_Okay, they’re no trying to kill me, right? Why do I feel like they are?_

“Seriously, this is destruction of private property,” Peter grabbed the railing and threw himself off, shooting another web on another building. “And I swear, I’ve already destroyed a lot of properties to last a lifetime,” He narrowly avoided another arrow as he veered towards a corner.

He let out a yelp as he almost collided to Iron Man, his senses saving him from another messy situation. Flipping in the air, he used the iron baring as a trampoline and propelled himself to a different direction. _“You have got to be kidding me!”_ Iron Man exclaimed.

“Nice try old man!” Peter called as he threw himself towards a billboard and clung to it, both his hands and feet pressed on the smooth surface.

He could just make out Hawkeye shooting an arrow-like cord from a building to another, creating short string-like cords to connect the buildings. “Hah! He does make small zip lines,” Peter commented as the man used his bow to transport himself to the other building through the cables he shot.

Peter caught sight of the All American Hero and Iron Man towards his way—along with pedestrians running to take shelter, both coming from different directions. _We should really stop fighting in cities_. Groaning, Peter crawled towards the edge of the billboard, a very dangerous and reckless idea in his mind. Shooting a loose web on one of the billboard’s lights, he slingshot himself towards Iron Man.

It was dangerous, and one thing he learned when fighting Goblin, is to never fight on air. But tonight’s a pass, _there’s three Avenger on my tail for heaven’s sake!_

Before he could soar over the iron clad hero, he grabbed him by the head and twisted his body in the air before landing himself on Iron Man’s shoulder. “What the he—” wrapping his leg’s on Tony’s neck, Peter thrust his back backwards with so much force he was sure he made a dent on Tony’s suit, flipping the two of them upside down.

With the thrusters still on, the two was forced to plummet on the ground.

 _“Shit!”_ Tony exclaimed shutting his thrusters, only it was too late.

Seconds before hitting the ground, Peter shot a web and shot himself towards a building, leaving Iron Man crashing.

“Wow! That actually worked!” Peter celebrated, hiding the fact that he was terrified of his own idea, as he stood at the top of the building surveying his job.

“Tony!” Cap called.

Tony’s suit was literally head deep on the cemented road, he’s lucky he gets to be the one wearing a suit of metal. “I’m fine! Just a little stuck!” He pulled, but failed, “just get the fucking wall crawler!”

“How about _not_ get the fucking wall crawler?” Peter called, only to get narrowly shot by another arrow. “Why do you always shoot my while I’m talking?!” he glared at Hawkeye.

Captain America threw his shield as Peter jumped, avoiding it. “Language!”

“Are you kidding me? He started it!” He pointed at Iron Man, still stuck on the ground, while he avoided another of Hawkeye’s arrows that are somehow also sedatives.

“When I said let’s do this again sometimes, I didn’t mean tonight!” Peter shot another web, only to find it empty, “Oh, shit”

A tingling sensation at the base of his skull made him duck down as he avoided the incoming shield of Captain America, “Is that a boomerang or somethin’?” he asked as he grabbed another canister from his belt, only to find that he was all out.

_Oh hell…_

He was just out to do patrol.

Peter debated whether to smack his head against anything hard for not thinking to bring extra web fluids. Celebrating early may have jinxed his luck as it turn out. _Dammit!_

Another arrow missing him by mere inches brought him back to his senses.

_Right, the Avengers._

With no webs, and no plan, Peter did the most obvious thing: he ran.

He turned and ran, jumping from building to building. He could just hear Clint telling the other two from the comms that he was probably out of webs.

_“Guys I think he’s out of webs.”_

_“So it wasn’t coming out from his body?”_

_Shit!_

His out of webs, and if Iron Man and his freaking thrusters gets unstuck—better not to dwell on the idea.

Peter had just landed on another building, when one of Hawkeye’s arrow thingies-like cords embedded itself on the entrance to the roof top of the building Peter was standing on. His heart practically jumping on his throat, Peter continued to run, denying himself to look back.

He was almost on the edge when he felt someone grab him by his suit, yanking him back. He fell on his back as his eyes landed on Hawkeye pointing an arrow on his face.

“Hi?” Peter offered.

“You’re going to pay for what you did last time,” Hawkeye’s stance didn’t falter, the tip of the arrow still pointing at peter’s face.

“You know, I’m kinda broke so…” Peter drawled.

“Get up”

“Nah, I’m good,” Peter tride his best to sound casual, only to falter as he heard the familiar thrusters, “Hey Iron Man, welcome to the party, and you brought Cap too!”

Using his left leg, Peter hooked it over Hawkeye’s waist and slammed him on the ground. He rolled on his side and used his other foot to kick the Bow out of reach. He had just landed on his feet when he felt his senses scream at the base of his skull and down his spinal cord.

He found himself flipping over before landing on Cap’s shoulders. “I had the sudden rush of Deja vu,” Peter commented before wrapping his legs around Captain America’s neck and flipping him over.

He caught himself from falling with his arms as he pushed himself up with force, enough to get him to land on the roof of the door to enter the roof top. “Your heavy, did you know that?” He told Steve.

“And you told me not to shoot,” Tony glared at Steve, “best plan of the day,”

The two men on the ground got on their feet and stared at Peter. 

“Oh I know this part,” Peter said clapping his hands, his voice covered in sarcasm, “Is this the part where you order me to go with you because you’re all a bunch of old men too tired to play tag with little ol’ me before putting me in a cell for the rest of my life?”

“You forgot the interrogation,” Clint added.

“Clint,” Steve warned the same time Tony said, “Do you ever shut up?”

Peter shrugged, “I talk when I’m nervous.” _Of course, tell them you’re nervous, good job Pete!_

“We should have brought Broccoli,” Tony muttered.

A shiver went down Pete’s spine, they actually thought to bring the hulk? “Hey, I’ve always wanted to meet Dr Banner! You think you can get me an autograph from him?”

That wasn’t a lie, Peter’s a big fan of Banner’s work, just not his alter ego.

“Listen, we know you’re ain’t going anywhere,” Tony said, “You’re trapped, so I think it’s better if you just come with us, before we destroy another property. I may be a billionaire, but I hate getting sued.”

“I knew it,” Peter said seating down, “This is definitely that part.”

Steve propped his shield on his left leg, “Sir, I assure you we won’t send you to a jail cell immediately,”

“But you will still put me in one,” Peter said as he dangled his legs on the edge, now a little bored—how is beyond him.

“We’re going to give you a chance to talk anyway, it’s a win-win,” Clint said walking as grabbed his bow on the ground.

“Yeah sure you’ll let me talk,” Peter snorted.

Steve opened his mouth, but Peter didn’t bothered to listen, he was surveying the place. He knew this part of Queens, just below the building, is an alleyway connected to each other, something like a maze. If he could just distract the three men and find a way to jump on the side of the building.

Peter frowned under his mask. _Wait a minute._

Tipping his head a little bit, but not enough to get noticed, Peter sneaked a glace to his back. He’s practically seating at the edge of the building. If he could just—

Peter immediately stood up, and the action caused a lot of things at once. Hawkeye loaded his bow and was pointing at Peter, Steve was holding his shield again, and Iron Man was ready to use his blasters.

“Hey I thought no shooting from Iron Man,” Peter teased.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his eyes boring onto Peter.

“Oh, you know, nothing much,” Peter shrugged, taking calculated steps to the edge.

“Let’s try that again shall we?” Ton said, “What are you doing,”

Peter smiled, he’s at the edge, “Running away from you guys.”

The second time that night, a lot of things happened within a second, Peter jumped at the edge and Hawkeye shot his arrow— or some sedative he never seem to be out of. The arrow, by some odds, caught Peter by the shoulder before he could disappear out of sight.

Peter heard distinct screams, but he was too focused at himself at the moment. He grabbed a railing just before he hit the bottom, wincing as he used the arm from his injured shoulder. He lowered himself on the groaned and ran, the arrow still fixed on his shoulder.

Peter didn’t know where he was going, in fact the only thing he knew was he’s running. This’ll be easy, all he needs to do was stay away from the streets.

Suddenly he was slowing down, his movements sloppy. Peter stopped and leaned on a wall, catching his breath. He was feeling groggy, his eyes heavy, his vision doubling. He was feeling lightheaded and it was bothering him, he had only ran a few bit, end yet he’s almost ready to collapse.

Then he realized something. 

“Aw shit, I forgot about you.”

Peter glared at the arrow on his shoulder, it wasn’t deep in fact the tip wasn’t fully embedded on his shoulder. The thing is, it’s a sedative, “You have got to be kidding me.”

He collapsed and then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you: MJ and Captain America. 
> 
> I took your idea and decided to place MJ as a friend, I hope the interaction between the two doesn't give off that much romance vibe because I'm not aiming for that. I just decided to throw her in there- because why not? I love her and i am so not taking her away. Even if she doesn't make sense to the plot.
> 
> Anyway... THANK YOU!!!
> 
> I am so amazed with all of your comments I got when i first posted this! It makes me feel so loved- and I know it's little corny but it's true.
> 
> All of your comments means a lot, I know I still have a lot of things to keep up: like a few grammatical errors. But you guys are so appreciative i don't feel so nervous about my story anymore- okay, maybe a little.
> 
> Anyway, thank you and keep those comments coming!


	3. Now You Work?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, it wasn't just a sedative.

Peter woke up with a jolt as he had dreamt of falling.

He was half expecting to see the plain ceiling of his bedroom, but was welcomed instead with a grime covered wall, and a stench that he’s all too familiar with. He craned his neck and was greeted with an image of an over flowing dumpster standing a few feet beside him. _Of course, there has to be a dumpster._

“God this sucks,” He muttered as he adjusted from his position, only for a groan escape his lips.

His back ached, it had been a while since he last slept sitting up, something he’d rather not experience again. But what annoyed him the most was the arrow embedded on his shoulder. _You’re still there huh_ , he thought grimly as he glared at the arrow. Bracing himself, he used his other hand and yanked it away from his shoulder.

He bit back a yelp as blood oozed out from the open wound, it wasn’t that much, but damn it still hurts. It also didn’t help that the wound was partially healed around the tip of the arrow. He glared at the arrow again before throwing it at the overflowing dumpster, he doesn’t really want to keep the arrow that shot him.

Grabbing his injured shoulder, He forced himself to stand up. He was slapped with sudden dizziness but nonetheless, he still managed to stay on his feet.

He glanced around, the sky was still dark, either it’s early in the morning or it’s just late. He hoped it was the latter since he’s not really aware how long he’s been out, and knowing May, she could be searching the whole city for him. For all he knows, he could have been out for days, depends on how strong that sedative was.

He took a step forward and was hit with another set of dizziness, this time it had less impact than the first. Peter concluded that whatever drug it is flowing inside his system haven’t fully left yet, causing all the unnecessary dizziness. Even though his metabolism was way faster than a normal human, sometimes he wish it could go even faster, even though it’s current speed’s already causing him problems.

He strained his hearing, he couldn’t risk going out if an Avenger’s lurking near him, but when he only heard a few people watching TV and late night commuters, Peter decided that it was safe to venture out.

Bracing himself, he grabbed the wall and started to climb. He can’t really just go strolling out the street as Spider-Man, he’ll look stupid. Sure, it was torture for his other shoulder, but it was the consequence for forgetting to bring an extra canister, and to also look less of a dork. _“Fuck,”_ Peter hissed. 

He passed by a window and risked himself to take a glance inside—maybe he’ll be lucky enough to catch the time. The small window was directly in front of a wall clock showing him that it was 2:42 in the morning—It was also showing him a drunk man snoring in front of an open TV, but it’s not like the information was important.

_Okay, I left the Apartment around 9:00, and I was done patrolling when 11:00 came around…_

He was out for more or less than three hours, no wonder the drugs weren’t out of his system just yet. Sighing, he continued to climb.

He was already near the top, with a lot of groaning and cursing, when he suddenly lost his bearing. Maybe that wasn’t the right term, but he found himself falling down not because he lost his balance, but because he wasn’t sticking.

“Argh!” He fell directly on top of the over flowing dumpster. “For the love of— you have got to be kidding me,” he hissed.

Peter brought one of his hands in front of his face and stared at it. _What the hell was that all about?_ Rolling to his side, ignoring the protests from his shoulder, he placed his hand on the wall. It wasn’t sticking.

Peter was sure he lost all the color from his face.

”Aw shit,”

====

Peter trudged down the hall to his apartment, his Spider-Man clothes roughly thrown inside his backpack that slung loosely on his shoulder.

The sky was already light, even though the sun hasn’t fully been up yet, but it was still enough to mock him about his current situation.

He tried over and over again to stick on the wall, and every time he did he failed majority of the time. At first he thought that whatever it is inside the arrow took away his powers, but when he was able to stick on the wall for a few seconds and lift the dumpster, he knew his powers were just in shambles.

He was forced to walk across Queens in his Spidey suit, the few people that saw him gave him weird looks. He’s just thankful the Avengers weren’t anywhere.

 _The Avengers,_ Peter thought grimly.

The thought of him, passed out in some alleyway while the Avengers were looking for him sent a shiver down his spine—he could have been caught. Maybe it was luck that the Avengers weren’t able to find him, but he knew some sort of consequence was bound to happen. Hence, his shambled powers.

Once he reached the entrance of their apartment, Peter grabbed his pair of keys and hoped against all odds that his aunt wasn’t awake yet. Even though she’s not a morning person, Peter learned never to trust his luck.

He was greeted with an empty living room and Peter sighed in relief. He made a beeline towards his room and opened the door, if only he hadn’t broken the knob.

_“Shit!”_

Peter stared wide eyed at the handle on his hand and the knob-less door of his room. He blinked, then blinked again before dropping it on the ground as if it had just electrocuted him.

He ran his hand over his hair as his other hand leaned on the wall, May’s going to kill him. His mind automatically wandered towards the tool box beneath the kitchen counter. Fixing a knob couldn’t be that hard right? It’s Repair 101.

Dropping his bag on the ground, Peter went to the counter, only if his hand on the wall wasn’t stuck.

“Now?!” Peter half hissed at himself, “Now you work?!”

He tried to pulling his hand off, but when he heard the wall beneath it create a noise that sounded more like the wall was breaking off, Peter stopped. First no powers, and now it’s dialled up to twelve? _What were in those arrows?_

Momentarily freezing his powers was understandable, but if in a few hours it’ll come back stronger why bother using it if they’re trying to contain him.

 _Don’t go way over your head Parker,_ A voice nagged in his head, _you’re probably reacting differently on the sedative, you have a different DNA remember._

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. The thought of being different wasn’t that upsetting, but in moments like these—like if he needs blood or if he donates blood, anything that has something to do with his generic structure, he feels kinda weird.

===

“That’s a first.”

Peter looked up from the newspaper he was reading and stared at the old man, “huh?”

“Yer not frownin’,” He said pointing at Peter’s face, “and ’m pretty sure yer smilin’ at the front page.”

The moment it was pointed out, Peter forced himself to scowl instead. The newspaper wasn’t baring anything good about Spider-Man, it never did and never will, he just couldn’t help himself but smile at the wrong information. Sure the news never bore anything right about him, but this time it was different.

The Avengers finally gave a statement, something about hitting Spider-Man with their newly enforced sedatives that would—in there terms: temporarily take away his enhancement for about a week, and leave him unconscious for two days— _it only took four hours you shmucks_. So if they found anyone who’s wearing a red and blue spandex passed out in some alleyway, notify them immediately.

“An’ now yer fake frownin’,” The old man chuckled, “Yer not foolin’ anyone kid.”

Peter shrugged and threw the newspaper at the nearest trashcan, “People aren’t going to notify anyone, I’m sure of it.”

“So yer smilin’ at their stipudity? Is that it?” He pointed at the newspaper in the trash.

“Wha—no, of course not. I just thi—”

Peter frowned genuinely as the old man started to laugh, “Don’t worry, ‘m thinking the same thing.” He closed the newspaper he was holding and smiled, “Ain’t no sedative’s going to stop him, he might be passed out s’mewhere, but I know he’s not passed out in s’me alleyway where people could find him.”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” He can’t really say he really was passed out in some alleyway.

They talked for a few more minutes before bidding farewell and going on his way.

It was a weekend, it means he can go Spider-Man the whole day, not like his aunt’s going to notice it anyway. She was taking more shifts than usual, probably because they were falling behind from rent. But, maybe he shouldn’t push his luck. If he goes out as Spider-Man when the Avengers knew he’s knocked-out in some alley, things might get tricky.

Maybe he should just start searching for a part-time job, at least he could help his aunt.

His Spidey sense suddenly made him jump, like an electric shock running down the base of his skull down his spine. Only to realize that a biker was just going to pass. Peter frowned, his powers have been in shambles all morning. Maybe saying that it only took four hours for his powers to freeze is a lie, in fact it comes and goes. And every time it comes back, he’ll ended up wrecking something or jumping away on stuffs that aren’t even considered as dangerous.

One time, he was grabbing a cereal box and a pang of dizziness hit him, causing a mess of fruit loops on the floor. He spent the next hour convincing his aunt that he was fine and visiting the hospital wasn’t necessary. It was a sign that the drugs weren’t fully gone yet, and it’s pissing him off all morning.

Now, it seemed to mellow down, whenever it disappears it’ll comeback in a few minutes. And when it does comes back, it comes back really strong—as if it builds up when it’s not used, before it dials back down to its normal strength after a few minutes. Then he’s fine, he’s back to a normal teenager that can stop a bus and can stick on walls for about a few hours, depends when it’ll decide to disappear again.

He hoped it won’t take an actual week before the drugs completely gets out of his system, he doesn’t like the idea of it.

He sighed and continued on his way.

He was able to find a few shops who were willing to take in a part-timer, but all of them where clashing with his Spider-Man duties. Like that one shop where he needs to stay at the counter all the time, it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to sneak out even for a simple mugging.

He tried delivery, at least he could Spidey out in the middle of the job, but apparently he needed a license. Nothing was working for him.

Peter found himself seating glumly that afternoon on a bench, glaring at his sandwich. At the end of the day, he couldn’t find anything. It was already getting dark, and his aunt would probably be home in a few hours. Peter decided to call it a day.

He was passing by a TV store when something caught his attention on one of the TVs showing the news. A car chase was happening not so far away, maybe a couple roads away from Liz’s old suburbs. There was only little information, something about knocking a bank, but it appears that they have a hostage.

_Typical._

“See, this what happens when they know Spider-Man’s not around,” a middle aged man muttered beside him before walking away.

Peter bit his lip, maybe he could sneak in as Spider-Man after all. It doesn’t look like there’s going to be any live reports about it anyway, and if there would be any, it could be a good payback for the Avengers, seeing that he’s all well when they were so sure he’s snoring somewhere totally powerless.

_Powerless…_

Peter stared at his hands before closing his eyes and focused. Yup, his enhance hearing was still working, it means his powers isn’t malfunctioning yet.

 _I could make it quick, yeah, I could— it’s just another car chase anyway, I’ve done loads of those. It won’t take long._ He opened his eyes and stared at his hands. _You already disappeared not so long ago. I don’t think you’ll disappear again for a while._

_Right?_

===

Peter was perched on some tree when he finally heard the familiar sound of engine on the empty road. Last he checked, the police lost tract of the car, but Peter was already familiar with this types of hostage takers. They always use the road towards the suburbs to lose the police from their tail.

For some reasons it always works.

Just not on him.

He shot a web at one of the trees before hurling himself up the air just as the car—a grey SUV, was coming to view. He was able to land on the hood without much noise. He prayed that his powers won’t bail on him, sticking on cars were the hardest.

“What was that?”

Okay, maybe he did made a few noise.

Peter shot a web and hooked it at one of the cross bars before he threw himself at the back of the window. The moment his feet slammed on the window, shards of glass came flying as it broke violently. He landed with a thud at the back seat, narrowly missing the cowering girl with duct tape on the mouth—let’s not forget the tied hands and a big guy that looks almost like a wrestler.

“Whoops,” Peter said as the girl shrieked in terror, Peter assumed she was shrieking—the tape on her mouth wasn’t helping. He decided not to dwell on the idea that she was probably screaming at him.

The big guy yelled something Peter was sure would earn him a soap in his mouth if he ever planned on saying it, and scrambled for his gun. The driver panicked, swerving nearly towards a tree.

“What the fuck!” The guy at the driver seat yelled, “I thought—”

“Yeah I thought so too,” Peter said as he noticed the bloke with the gun, “I’ll take that.” He shot a web at the firearm before throwing it away towards the broken back window. “And yeah, I did passed out in some alleyway,” He continued as the big guy threw himself at Peter. He narrowly avoided it by pushing himself further back the seat and took hold of the guy’s head before pushing him towards his side of the door.

The girl continued to shriek as the door broke off, nearly sending the man outside the moving vehicle.

“Aw shit!”

Peter threw himself towards the man, nearly sending both of them outside, before pulling them back in, “You should recommend me your workout routine,” Peter told him as his Spider sense suddenly screamed at the base of his skull.

Peter pushed himself of the guy as he stuck himself at the roof of the SUV, shots were fired as the driver appeared to have been multi-tasking with the gun on the hand and the stirring wheel on the other. The girl continued to scream louder.

“I almost forgot about you,” Peter told the driver as the familiar burning electric shock appeared at the base of his skull. He jerked himself towards the side of the vehicle, almost crushing the girl, as he avoided more shot.

“I don’t fucking care why you’re here, but you’re going—” Peter kicked the wrestler looking guy straight at the face, knocking him out.

“You talk too much, didn’t you know that?” Peter grabbed the headrest of the passenger seat at the front before tossing himself at it. He landed right next to the driver, “Hey there, I like your friend. We have the same thing with too much talking.”

“Fuck you!” The driver fired shots after shots as Peter expertly dodged them, with one almost grazing the side of his face.

“Dude come on,” Peter whined shooting a web at the gun before flicking it away. He grabbed the man’s nape before slamming his head on the wheel, “Watch the face,”

The car jerked violently before Peter could even realize that slamming the driver’s head on the steering wheel wasn’t such a good idea. He tried to take the wheel, but apparently the driver was much harder to knockout than the bigger guy.

“I change my mind, maybe you should recommend me your workout routine,” the guy produced a knife. “Wow, this couldn’t get any more cliché.”

The driver screamed and took a hard turn, sending Peter crashing on the door, and the other guy out the vehicle. Peter shot a web at the unconscious bloke and pulled him back in, while narrowly avoiding the other guy’s attack. 

The girl wasn’t done screaming.

Then, something clicked.

_No, that’s not right._

Something disappeared.

His arms started to burn from the weight of the wrestler-looking guy and he was starting to feel sore. Peter’s instinct, not his spider sense, made him kick at the Driver, sending him slamming on his door. Not wanting to get near him anymore.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

_I told you not to bail on me right now!_

The SUV jerked violently as Peter tried to take control of everything while avoiding the still conscious guy. His heart was racing and he couldn’t think straight anymore. He’s back to being just some guy in a spandex.

With everything that he got, Peter pulled the unconscious guy and threw him at the feet of the girl, next to a bag Peter didn’t notice before. His hands flew to the steering wheel and jerked it to the other side. Peter pulled himself up to avoid the guy from crashing towards him and slamming on the door.

The girl was pressed on her side of the door with the other bloke sliding on the SUV floor.

_Okay, Peter you can do this._

He slammed his foot on what he thought was the breaks, only to send the SUV running faster. “Okay not that one!” He was about to slam his foot on the other pedal when a gunshot ricochet across the vehicle.

Pain exploded at his side as he let out a blood curling scream.

Peter turned to the driver and grabbed his nape before slamming his face on the front, this time knocking him out. Peter slammed his foot on the breaks, jerking the four of them forward before putting it to park.

Peter, with great effort, turned to look at the girl. She was staring at him with wide eyes.

The pain from his side was overbearingly excruciating. He was staring to see red spot from his peripheral view and every time he tried to move anything from waste up was painful.

Peter, with great effort, reached out and took the tape from the girl’s mouth before untying her hands—the latter took more time because Peter’s other hand was too busy stopping the blood from coming out of his wound.

“Call—” Peter took a sharp intake of breath, even talking was causing way too much pain, “call the p-police.”

The girl nodded violently before grabbing the phone in her jean pocket. “You want me to call some paramedics?” She managed through wavering voice.

Peter shook his head, “No just,” He fumbled for handle of the car door as he took another sharp intake of breath, “Just… I’m good, just…”

He pushed himself out of the SUV as soon as the door opened. He doubled down in pain, almost crashing down on the ground. He could feel the sweat sticking on his mask.

_“Fuck,”_

His eyes made its way down to his gunshot wound and felt all the blood rush out from his face. He could just feel the metal wedge inside somewhere.

_Home…_

_I need to go home…_

How he managed to find his way back and away from the suburbs was beyond him, all he knew was he’s in pain and he needs to get home. He could hide this from May, he could fix this himself—he know he could because he needs to. He can’t show himself to May looking like this.

It was dark now and there was not a single person outside the street, only he’s not so sure—the red spots he was seeing was taking most of his vision. A sharp turn made him let out a cry of pain letting go of the web, sending him crashing on the rooftop of some building.

He couldn’t pull himself up anymore, he lost a lot of blood. He’s feeling lightheaded and yet every part of him was heaving in pain. Blood continued to ooze out from the open wound, he’s not aware if his powers were back or not, he’s just aware of the white hot pain on his side.

His other hand, that was clutching his bloody side, never left its place. But the blood keeps seeping through his fingers.

 _You never learn._ Peter thought.

His Spider sense screamed as pigeons came flying. Peter laughed grimly. _Now you decided to show up?_

A few minutes passed, and Peter felt like he would be slipping off any minute. The thought of his aunt waiting for him is what kept him awake, and yet he couldn’t push himself anymore. Then his spider sense screamed again, sending shocks after shock at the back of his head. It was almost too painful.

He heard the sound of thrusters. _Of course, the damn thrusters._ Then a loud thud.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.”

Peter groaned, why does he have to have the shittiest luck?

“Hi old man,” Peter heaved, staring at the standing figure of Iron Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you noticed, I kinda placed an Easter egg on the last chapter-well, calling it an Easter egg is a bit much to begin with anyway.
> 
> Remember the time Peter told Hawkeye he'll like him more if he's deaf? Well, in the comics Clint's deaf, he needs a hearing aid to actually hear. In the films, I wasn't aware if they incorporated that aspect about him, so I decided to just leave that one out of the story. (I just thought I'd share this)
> 
> But to more important matters: I. AM. FLOORED!!!
> 
> Your responses are what kept me pumped up. I try my best to answer every one of it and I do hope you truly enjoy the story-even though it only have like two chapters.
> 
> The next Chapter would be the big reveal, if you know what I mean.
> 
> Comment and leave a Kudos! It really means a lot!


	4. I Thought That's The Whole Purpose of Being Sent to Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one was expecting it, then again, how he talks should have been a give away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for a little gore details

Peter bit back a wince, turns out talking was not a good idea.

“You know, I never thought…” Iron Man’s voice trailed as he got near Peter, in fact he stopped moving and talking all together, he just stared at the bloodied mess that is Spider-Man.

“What?” Peter asked as the hand on his wound gripped tighter, “Cat got you tongue?”

It was lame, but he was bleeding and by now Peter was sure he lost more than fifty percent of blood in his body. He was lightheaded—and he knew the world shouldn’t be orange when it was probably midnight, but one thing was sure in Peter’s head: He can’t get caught, not now, not never.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. scan him,” Iron Man said.

The cogs inside Peter’s head started to move. Getting away would be easy, he’s only facing one Avenger—an Avenger he was able to escape from twice, but he was bleeding and even the thought of standing up was making him sick. If possible, the beating of his heart accelerated.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit._

_I need to get away,_

_I need to…_

_… why is everything so orange?_

Peter barely registered F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s diagnostics, he was too preoccupied with trying to get his mind straight, when he heard a very audible “Fuck.” The iron clad hero looked away and muttered, “Clint, hey Clint.”

Peter winced again as static invaded his eardrums, god he hates it when everything was dialled up to twelve. Sensory overload was already a handful, and now he has to endure this.

 _“Yow,”_ Clint replied, _“what’s up?”_

“The spider guy, you shot him in the shoulder right?” He asked.

_“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I shot him, I didn’t miss. Seriously, I miss a couple times and now you question my ability.”_

Peter could feel Iron Man’s gaze on him again as he tried to bite back a snort. He’s aware that the current situation was confusing as hell, you expect a person passed out in some alley with an arrow and you find him bleeding on top of a roof. Talk about missing a lot of information.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tony said, ignoring Clint’s confused voice on the other side of the comms.

Before Peter could blink, the iron clad hero was kneeling in front of him. Instincts took hold of Peter and he started to crawl away, tried to perhaps. Peter’s midsection burned and all he could see were red spots.

“Hey, keep still will you,” Tony ordered, “I know this isn’t part of the plan alright, but sending you in dead wasn’t also. So if you want to see tomorrow’s daylight keep still.”

“So I have a window in my jail cell?” Peter asked, trying to be sarcastic, but the gasp that escaped from his mouth did him no justice.

 _“Tony what’s going on?”_ came the static voice of the All American Hero.

Peter grimaced, cursing whatever fluid it was Hawkeye shot him.

“God, my ears are going to fall off,” Peter muttered, his head lolling. _I’m really sleepy._

Tony ignored him. “Trust me, I hope I know,” Tony grumbled at Steve as Peter felt himself being lifted up, he bit back a groan, “inform the med bay, I’m sending someone in.” He paused looking at Peter, “huh, I thought you’d be heavier.”

_“Send someone in? Tony can you be a little more concrete.”_

Peter heard the thrusters go off when every inch of his brain finally screamed at him about the current situation. With the sudden sense of realization that he was technically getting arrested—and willingly to the shock of everyone for the matter, Peter did the first thing that appeared in his head: he thrashed in Iron Man’s arms.

It was hell, painful, excruciating, he actually thought he was going to die right there.

“Stop movi—!” with only adrenaline pushing him, Peter used one of his legs and kicked Iron Man straight on the chest. The pain that it sent on his midsection gave him more red dots in his vision, but the fact that he’s back on the cold ground was worth it.

“For god’s sake!” Iron Man exclaimed.

He was right, standing up does make him sick, but Peter needed to get away. He can’t let one bullet get him captured.

Peter swayed on his feet, and when he tried to take a step, he crashed down on his knees. His other hand holding the ground for support as the other desperately tried to stop his bleeding wound.

 _“Tony what the hell is going on?”_ It was Clint this time, he was ignored.

“You need help, alright! Now stop escaping already.” Iron Man was kneeling beside him again, and Peter cursed at his enhanced healing. Sure it was fast, but moments like this makes it as slow as a snail. “And Friday, cut the goddamn call already.”

“No,” Peter continued to argue, “get away.”

This time, Tony was left with no patience. He grabbed Peter by the armpits and lifted him off the ground.

Blood started to drip down from his wound to the tips of his toes, and Peter did nothing but to thrash against Iron Man. “Let go!” He protested, but half of his energy was sapped off.

Peter felt dread. _Not now, please, I can’t…_

He blacked out.

===

“—you caught him?”

“Found him like… serum… didn’t work… I think.”

“Place him on the table—”

Peter felt pain erupt from his midsection as blood started to force its way out of his mouth. His vision was too blurry to make out the faces in front of him—faces that were pushing him down on something slick and cold.

“—hell! Were you shaking him the whole flight here?!”

Peter tried to suck in a breath, but the blood gushing from his mouth was drowning him. Everything was too painful, he can’t breathe and his mind was muddled with nothing but fear. Peter lurched forward as he tried anything to make it stop—to make the pain stop.

“Hold him down!” _A woman, but it doesn’t sound like any of the Avengers._

_… Avengers_

Peter trashed again, but pain erupted and yet he doesn’t even know where. His chest hurts, his arms hurts, his midsection hurts, everything was just hurting him.

“Strap him!”

Hands pressed him down on the cold surface as he felt leather straps binding him down. He reached out to whomever it is the sleeves he grabbed on to and tried, tried so hard, to say something, beg for everything to stop. But opening his mouth was making him sick, or worse, vomit out blood.

The hand that was able to hold on to someone was forced down as well.

“Stay down! We’re trying to help you!”

“Holy shit!”

“Clint are you helping or not?!”

“—St… stop…” He was begging, Peter was begging to make it stop.

He felt his suit being ripped, freeing his caged chest, but it did nothing to help him breath.

“What about anaesthesia?”

“No time!”

Something cold.

Then pain.

His side burned with pain as Peter trashed from his binds. It was all too much. He didn’t know how he did it, he was trying his best a while ago, but Peter screamed as he felt tears forced its way out from his eyes.

Peter forced to keep his eyes open, even though he could see nothing but shadow figures and blinding lights, through gagging coughs. He was trying to breath, he really was. He wanted to know what happened, why did it reached this painful? He really did.

He felt his masked getting soggy on his face, whether from the blood coming from his mouth or tears from his eyes. But whatever it was, it was drowning him.

“Take off the mask! He can’t breathe!” _A doctor?_

_My mask…_

_… no don’t!_

“Ng—no!” Peter gasped out, but it was no use.

A rough hand grabbed the top part of his mask as it was ripped away from his face. And at the same moment, his side burned again in pain and Peter was left with no choice but to lurch forward and scream.

He fell back down—all his energy was gone, and all he could think was his throat hurts from screaming, his bullet wound was excruciating, his blood was everywhere, and that all he can do was cry. His vision was blurry, and the tears weren’t helping, but it wouldn’t stop.

It hurts.

And he was crying.

After all, he’s only just a kid.

“Holy shit!”

_“It’s a kid.”_

Peter laid limply on the slick metal. _It’s gone, my mask’s gone…_

_“Hey! Soldier, stay with me!”_

_“Bruce, get in here!”_

Peter wondered if there was at least a window in his jail cell as everything turned black.

===

Peter heard beeping, he was sure it wasn’t his alarm because it was too soft to be even considered as that. He wanted to open his eyes, but the comforter was just too soft and it was physically stopping him from waking up. He mentally noted to ask May if she changed his sheets.

The beeping continued. Peter groaned and turned to his side, then everything went hell.

Peter’s eyes flew open as white hot pain erupted on his side. He lurched forward into a seating position but the pain was still there, the worst part was the alarm going off.

Peter ignored the alarm—even though it was practically going off inside his eardrums, as his hand flew to his side. He fought off the red spots clouding his vision as he realized that he wasn’t sleeping on his bed, in fact, he wasn’t even in his room.

He was in some sort of hospital room, but with no windows–ha, figures, and a single door. His eyes flew everywhere, monitors were littered around his bed and the room was obviously not suitable for visitors. There was no chair or even a small table, just him, the bed, and a bunch of monitors.

Then everything went crashing back in his head.

The sedative, getting shot, Iron Man, and the traumatizing surgery.

_...My mask!_

Peter’s other hand flew to his face, only to stop with only a few inches away. It was then did he noticed the long shackles clamped on his wrist, the end of which was linked on the wall. He tried to pull, break off the shackles, but it did nothing but send waves of pain on his side.

“That won’t work.”

Peter’s head snapped up and saw a familiar looking man in a lab coat who Peter knows he should be aware off. But his head was in shambles and all he could do was panic.

“Vibranium,” The man supplied.

Peter clamped his mouth shut, he continued to glare at the man. He suddenly noticed the absence of the alarms.

“You should lay down,” He continued, his hands inside his coat pockets, “It’s gonna take more than a day for your wounds to heal, even with your enhanced healing.”

_A day?!_

He’s been out for a day and May doesn’t even know where he is. Other than the fact that he’s in the Avenger’s facility, he couldn’t care less when he knows his aunt was going nuts searching for him.

The guy took a few long strides and reached out a hand to Peter who flinched in return. The man stopped and offered a wary smile that Peter didn’t offered back.

“Lay down, it’ll help.”

With reluctance, Peter laid back down on the bed, the pain did subside, but it wasn’t gone. The man turned and did a few thing on one of the monitors before turning back to Peter. He didn’t flinched when he was still glaring at him.

“I’m not really good at this,” The man said. “I’m just here to check on your vital status.”

Peter continued to glare.

The man ran a hand through his messy hair, something about how the kid looks at him made him feel like he needs to give him some sort of explanation. “Look, I know you’re angry—and yes we messed up. But someone else is going to talk to you kid, and that’s not—”

“‘m not a kid.”

The man blinked and Peter realized who the man was: he was Dr Bruce Banner.

It was his turn to blink.

He never really thought his first meeting with one of his favourite scientists to turn out like this, but to begin with, he never really thought he’d meet him, maybe other than his alter ego. Stark seemed to be serious in sending him the Hulk.

“Right, yeah. I, uh…” He turned and did a few more things on the monitors.

Peter stayed silent, just those three words sapped him out of his energy, but what was really the reason was the realization of his current situation. 

He was chained on some bed in the Avenger’s facility—people who were set on capturing him, with his identity no longer a secret. He doesn’t know if he’s powers were still in shambles, not that it’ll help him though—with or without his powers he can’t beat Vibranium. And somewhere, his aunt is looking everywhere for him.

And looking back, everything that led him here was all because of his decisions.

“I’m sorry.”

Peter blinked, tears where threatening to spill out from his eyes, but he still turned to look at the Avenger beside him.

Bruce wasn’t looking at him, he was still looking at the monitor, but both of his hands were in his lab coat. “I don’t know much, but we were wrong to assume.”

Peter didn’t said anything.

Half an hour had passed but Bruce wasn’t leaving. At first Peter didn’t care, but the longer he stayed there, the more curious he got. He was still angry, and his only way to show it was to stop talking and ignore everything—something teenagers all have in common when they’re angry, but the man was just there.

If the situation was any different, he would have assumed the man was keeping him in company.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

Bruce snapped out from where he was standing, or leaning considering that there was no chair to sit on. He looked at Peter and shrugged, “I figured maybe some company would help, it could get really boring in here.”

“I thought that’s the whole purpose of being sent to jail. To spend your whole life in boredom.”

Bruce blinked before biting his lip, “I don’t think we’re even sending you in, you don’t seem to be that capable of what the others claim.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “then let me go, I promise I’ll stay away from your radar. You said it yourself, I didn’t do anything bad—”

Bruce grimaced, he just gave the kid false hope. “Listen, I’m just as in the dark as you are, I don’t even know what they’re going to do about you. You’re just a,” Bruce stopped himself from saying the word kid and swallowed, “you’re enhanced, and a lot are complaining about you. We were wrong, but in retrospect, you did this to yourself—”

“But you told me—”

“I know, and again I don’t know anything as of the moment. I just think it’s obvious that sending a kid like you is—”

“’m not a kid,” Peter growled and Bruce stopped talking, “So you’re here to tell me that you’re not going to send me to jail but you’re still going to keep me away from everything? Why are you even here?”

Bruce looked down on his feet, unlike the others who resolved on pulling up a meeting because of their mistakes, he volunteered to be the first to see the kid once he wakes up. Because unlike them, he wants to face his mistake and apologize first, “To say sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been making all sorts of scenarios in my head with how the identity reveal would go. I really thought I'd enjoy writing, then I realized I'm not really good at it hahahaha. I ended up staring at my laptop screen not knowing what to write next.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though I was in some sort of a bust(? honestly, I don't know how to call it) while writing it.
> 
> I don't know if I wrote Banner right, seriously I look up to those people who could write each character flawlessly. Sometimes I end up writing Tony with Peter's character traits.
> 
> Anyway, I am so in love with your positive reactions to this story! Honestly, I was not expecting to reach more than a hundred Kudos. But here we are now, at 300 and still pushing! God I love you guys!
> 
> Please leave a comment! (and a kudos, certainly a kudos)
> 
> P.S. I really want deaf Barton, don't be surprised if I end up writing it in the end. Knowing myself, I'm going to find a loophole in the story and make him deaf. But of course I should ask your thoughts, so yay or nay?


	5. He Doesn't Like Being Called Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers have a little meeting about the situation they got themselves into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was this little misunderstanding with Bruce from the last chapter, but it wasn't an accident XD.
> 
> I really meant it to be written like that, but I guess we all read differently.
> 
> Anywho, Bruce is one of my favorite characters (even though his characteristics are quite confusing in the comics, seriously I cannot pinpoit a certain aspect) and i hope you forgive him hahahaha.

Nick Fury slammed a folder on the glass table, the contents spilling out for the whole team, to see. “His name is Peter Parker, fifteen, a student—for the surprise of no one, and is a fucking honour student.” Fury paced and crossed his arms over his chest, “Only living relative is his aunt—who’s probably scanning the streets looking for him, parents died when he was four, uncle died when he was fourteen.” Tony closed his eyes and sighed and Sam winced at the information. “I don’t like saying this, so I’m going to say this ones, and ones only: We fucked up.”

Steve grabbed one of the papers and stared at it, it was the birth certificate of the kid. The other Avengers—excluding Vision—who they decided to leave out from the meeting for obvious reasons, Bruce, and Thor—who was facing some family issues in Asgard, didn’t bother to pick up any. 

They have been sitting in the meeting room longer than necessary as they waited for Fury that morning, and throughout the day, not once did they brought up the topic of the said teenager occupying one of the rooms in the tower. Everyone was in their own world of remorse, that was until Fury strolled in and threw and thick folder on the table that late afternoon.

“I told you to search for more information,” Natasha said beside Steve, finally the first person to speak up, “I knew something wasn’t right.”

“Well that helped a lot, thanks Nat,” Tony glared at her which she fired back.

"I wasn’t trying to,” she replied dully, “I was right not to agree on this.”

“Agree or not, you’re still in this,” Clint said, both of his feet was resting on the table, he was looking at no one in particular as he fidgets at one of his hearing aids. “You, Wanda, Sam, and Vision. The whole crew.”

“So Thor’s in this as well?” Tony asked sarcastically.

“Stark, not now,” Fury warned.

“So what? Are we going to have to give another public statement about this?” Tony asked, “For all we know the kid is also at fault here, he knew we were onto him. And look what he did, instead of explaining his side he runs away every time.”

“Explain himself?” Fury repeated, “Oh he did a lot of explaining, you should see the notes he leaves. Could make a fucking paper mache of your face if you ask me.”

Tony turned to Fury, his eyebrows raised, “Now that is an information you just don’t leave out, especially when it’s about an arrest.”

“I didn’t leave it out,” Fury stopped pacing and rested both of his hands on the table, “the World Security Council decided to leave it out.”

“See that’s the problem here,” Sam leaned forward and gestured at the heap of papers in front of them. “You got information from WSC.”

“Sam’s right,” Natasha interjected, “Why do you still take orders from them, a local menace—or whatever it is that kid does, is not something they should be worried about.”

“He’s enhanced,” Wanda said from her seat, she had not said anything since the meeting started, in fact she was more interested in staring at the glass table. “That should be enough information.”

“You wanna know why I still listen to them?” Fury cocked his head, “those motherfuckers can turn us into terrorists before you can even say shit. The fact that there’s not much information about that crawling kid isn’t also helping the situation. The Daily Bugle is the only thing I can read to get information about him, other than blogs from normal civilians who praises anyone that can lift a building.”

“As much as I don’t like remembering, I think we’ve been terrorists before,” Natasha said, “S.H.E.I.LD.’s been housing Hydra agents for god knows how long, in fact, we were Hydra at one point. Should I remind you that you actually died? And now you’re scared with something that has already happened?”

“I’m not taking that risk again, Agent Romanoff,” Fury replied. “We’re barely starting again, I don’t want to start over.”

“But it’s their orders—you said it yourself, shouldn’t they be the one handling this?” Tony asked, “The citizen knows it’s us whose doing the job, but the orders came from them.”

“So we’re going to do the blame game now?” Steve asked, like Wanda, he had not said anything until now, “We received information and then we decided to just go with it. Nat was right, we should have looked into this ourselves, and not depend on the information given to us. We don’t work for them.

“And you can’t possibly think we’ll hand him over to people like them, the kid deserves a normal life.”

“Which side are you really on?” Tony asked.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “Stark, we were wrong on this one. Don’t you get it?”

“I know!” Tony slammed his palm on the glass table. To say that Sam was a little shocked was an understatement, Tony’s been acting like the situation was not that big, but it appears that he was more shaken than he thought. “I know we screwed up, and I’m looking for a way that it doesn’t explode in our faces!”

“It already did!” Clint argued, his voice raising, he was obviously feeling as guilty as Tony, “Finding out that he’s a kid was the explosion.”

“Chaining up the kid, now that’s another warning for the next explosion,” Sam added.

“Chained?” Wanda asked alarmed, finally ending her staring contest with the table and looking at Fury, “What does he mean by chained?”

Sam grimaced as Clint kicked him under the table, these are the types of subject they don’t want Wanda hearing. She’s still a little too sensitive about it.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Fury countered.

Wanda turned to look at Stark.

Tony looked even guiltier, nonetheless he gestured at Clint, Steve and him, “He was able to escape from us,” he slowly said. “Putting him in a room with no windows isn’t enough. He’s going to escape no matter what, and we won’t be able to talk to him if that happens.”

Wanda shot up to her feet, the legs of her chair screeching against the tiled floor, “He’s a kid, not a prisoner!”

“Wanda, calm down,” Sam whispered.

Steve was already poised to action if things went messy.

“I’m aware! How many times do I have to say that?” Tony ran a hand over his face, “As much as I hate to be on his bad side, I already am. The only way I can make it up to him is if we talk this shit we’re trapped in with him, and talking won’t be possible when he’s more willing to chain me up instead.”

“So chaining him up was the best solution? Doing surgery when he’s awake was traumatizing enough, to wake up chained is another.” Wanda continued to exclaim, “We’ve been trying to catch him for the past three days, and now that he’s here all shackled up, do you think he’ll even trust us?”

“I don’t think he’ll ever trust us,” Natasha deadpan.

“Not helping,” Sam gritted.

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“In my offense, that surgery was to save him.” Tony countered, “He was dying, and I specifically remembered reminding them about anaesthesia.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Wanda scoffed.

“Enough!” Steve ordered, his voice louder than what he had intended. He’s been trying to act as if he got it all under control, but he really doesn’t. The image of the kid strapped up on the surgery table was haunting him, knowing that he took part of it.

It’s selfish, but at the moment he couldn’t even care how Tony and Clint felt, knowing that the other two were wracked with more guilt than the others, being that they were the most hands-on.

“How about instead of fighting like a bunch of kids, we solve the situation at hand, hm?” Fury interjected, “We have a kid in the facility, and we ain’t gonna be sending him to his dear old auntie looking like shit.”

No one bothered to say anything, they were all looking anywhere but at each other. Wanda sat back down, but it was obvious that she wasn’t over with Stark.

“Thought so,” Fury muttered pushing himself off the table, “Kid’s got school—and damn well good at it, and we can’t keep him here until we realize what it is that we have to do to fix this. Talk to him? That’s pretty obvious already. But what about the civilians? I remember giving a public statement about catching the spider guy—or kid whatever, we can’t just go tell them we changed our minds just like that. We have to tell them a reason. Tell them he’s a kid?” Fury snorted, “I’m not smart, but I’d be damned if we tell the whole world about it. Kid’s been trying to hide it, why else was he running away?”

“So we’re going to have to base this on our public image?” Natasha let out a dry, if not, a somewhat menacing laugh. “Isn’t that a little selfish?”

“Once the world finds out we screwed, I don’t think they’ll like being defended be us,” Fury pinched the bridge of his nose, “the fiasco with Hydra hadn’t gone down yet, if they hear this, we’re screwed.”

“No, you’re screwed,” Tony argued, “You just dragged us into this.”

“Yeah, keep telling that to yourself,” Clint muttered from his seat.

“Rogers,” Fury called before Tony could even say anything, Steve’s head snapped up, “You’re going to talk to the kid, I don’t trust Stark at the moment,” He ignored Stark’s glare, “While I think of a kiss ass excuse to WSC, telling them that Spider-Man’s a kid is obviously not an option.”

“That’s it?” Wanda asked, “So when this is all over, we’re just going to leave him at it? He’s a kid, he shouldn’t be wandering around at night fighting thugs with no super vision.”

“You may think I’m heartless,” Tony started, “but stopping the kid wander around is not our problem.”

“Tony,” Sam warned.

“I’m not finished,” Tony rolled his eyes, like the immature billionaire he is, “That doesn’t mean I can’t make something up to keep an eye on him. I did a lot of stupid stuff, but this is by far the worst.”

“I gonna have to stop that conversation there, we’re not even sure how this—whatever this is, is going to end,” Fury interrupted, “As much as I’d like it to be over, I don’t have a fucking clue how to fix this mess without getting a shitty finale.”

“Sorry, you’re gonna have to explain that again,” Sam said. “What do you mean you don’t have any idea? We’ve faced worse than this.”

“I know,” Fury said, “But this is a kid we’re talking about, a kid who got dragged in on a mess no kid should even be in. I’m telling you, one mistake, we could be terrorists. And all. Because. Of a god. Damn. Kid.”

“He doesn’t like being called like that.”

Everyone spun their heads at the intruder standing by the doorway. Bruce stood awkwardly with his hands deep in his lab pockets. He wasn’t looking good, as if he had just lost something, which wasn’t a good sign. Considering that he was the first to actually talk to the teen, it appears that whatever talk they did didn’t end well.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Take a seat,” Fury said and gestured at the three unoccupied chairs. “How’s he?”

Banner sat down on his chair next to Clint and bit his lip. “Awake, the serum was completely out of his system by the way—which was surprising. I’d like to look into it, considering that I was pretty positive it could hold him off for a week. Then again, I don’t have people who have the same DNA structure as he does at my disposal—”

“Banner,” Fury injected, “That’s not what I’m asking,”

Banner immediately looked embarrassed “Uh, sorry,” he rubbed his nape, “He’s, uh, he’s pissed, really pissed.”

“That’s surprising,” Tony muttered, the guy was born to be sarcastic.

Wanda glared at him.

“Try waking up in a windowless room, chained in a facility where the people that occupies there wants to imprison you,” Bruce replied dully. “It’s no wonder he’s angry, and scared—definitely scared.” He trailed.

“What?” Sam asked.

“He’s scared, tried to hide it, but it was obvious,” Banner continued, “And I think I scared him off even more,” Banner sighed, “I gave the kid false hope, and I actually told him he’s also at fault. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

“Which would have been a good idea because he wouldn’t really talk to me anymore, so getting the kid to say something would take some time. Who got the job to talk to him?” 

Steve sighed, “Me,” he said. “But I have to make him talk somehow.”

Bruce nodded before looking at Fury, “So, what happened here?” he asked, “I know I missed everything”

“Nothing spectacular,” Clint supplied, “Just the fact that we screwed up, and that we screwed up bad.”

"I'd rather like you mute than deaf," Tony muttered at Clint before turning to Bruce. “Technically the kid was also at fault,” he said. “We’re not the only ones to blame.”

“Tony, shut it,” Natasha warned.

“Here,” Steve passed the folder to Bruce, “read that.”

Bruce scrunched his forehead, but nonetheless, took out his glasses and opened up the folder. He was quiet for few moments, with the team waiting for him to finish, but the expression he was making as he scanned through the information screams nowhere near liking what he was reading. 

“Fifteen,” He read, “He’s only fifteen.” He closed the folder and crossed his arms over his chest before sighing, “I don’t even want to know how bad the situation is.”

“I think you already know,” Natasha said.

“Any idea how we could make it better?” Steve asked, “I’m pretty sure we should start fixing things with the kid, it’s Sunday after all. Kid’s got school.”

“Loose the chains,” Wanda said, cutting off whatever Bruce was about to say, she was still glaring at Stark.

Stark looked aghast, as if the mere thought of taking the chains off was going to get someone killed.

“Uh, yeah,” Bruce scratched the back of his neck, “What she said.”

===

Peter sat grimly on his bed, thinking longingly of his aunt, who was probably worried sick already. Many times he found himself in the verge of crying, but he couldn’t risk showing any sign of weakness. For all he knew, he was being watched by some invisible CCTV. Instead, he would bite his lip or the inside of his cheek whenever he would feel the tears building up.

He stared sullenly at his chained wrist, and was mentally cursing Stark for leaving him with nothing but a hospital gown, when his ears picked up a heated conversation not too far from his room. Peter’s head snapped up, he knew those voices. Considering that they’ve been playing tag a few days ago, one of them was even able to bring him here.

_“Think this through, he might escape!”_

_“And if I keep him chained, he’ll also keep his mouth shut.”_

_“We’re not even sure if he would even open his mouth the minute you take off those chains. You know what a better idea is? Keep him here and wait ‘till he starts talking.”_

_“He’s got school, Tony.”_

Peter blinked, they were talking about him. _Shit!_ He wasn’t ready yet, just seeing one of them left him seething—and he wasn’t even there on the nights they tried to capture Peter.

He shook at his bonds, as if they were even going to budge.

_“He better start talking then.”_

_“Can you hear yourself?”_

_“Can _you_ hear yourself?”_

There was a pause, _“Don’t even think off following me inside,”_ this time the voice was much louder, and Peter knew they were outside the door of his room. He found himself tugging at the chains more violently as his side starts to burn a little. _“I’m going to take his chains off and hope_ for the best,” the door opened as soon as he said the last three words.

Peter stared wide eyes at the two Avengers standing by the door as he cowered at the edge of the bed.

No one said anything for a minute, but it was Peter who broke the silence, “Don’t come close.”

A flash of guilt went over Captain America’s face, but Peter was too busy glaring at the two of them to notice it. Tony was standing awkwardly behind Captain America, looking as if seeing Peter suddenly made him realize how screwed up everything was.

“I’m here to take your chains off,” Steve said, holding up a weird looking key.

Peter didn’t said anything, for all he knows they were there to have his hopes up again.

“I’m just gonna…” Tony trailed off then left.

Peter watched the other man leave before glaring back at the All American Hero. It was weird seeing him in normal clothes, Peter was used in seeing him in his uniform, or in PSAs his school kept forcing them to watch.

“So,” Steve suddenly said, lifting the key again, “off?”

Peter looked down on his wrist, whose skin was in an angry color of red due to the pressure of forcing to chains off. He looked back up and slowly nodded, all the while glaring at the American Hero—Peter doesn’t want to let him think everything’s alright when it’s not. He’s still pretty angry and he wants them to know about it.

Steve closed the door before taking calculating steps towards Peter, taking in the fact that Peter was still coiled at the far end corner of the bed, his knees digging on his chest.

“But you have to promise me that as soon as I take it off, you’re not going to run,” Steve said looking at Peter, trying his best not to come off too strong. Even though he knew it was hopeless anyway.

Peter just glared at him.

“And that you’re going to talk.”

He wasn’t planning to say anything, but again this is Peter, “I always talk.”

Steve was a little taken aback, wondering if Bruce lied to them. But then he remembered how much talking was involved on the night he agreed to help catch the kid. He realized that it was the first sign that he was just a teenager, or maybe some collage kid. But still, it was a sign he chose to ignore.

“Then that’s settled,” Steve said.

He grabbed one of Peter’s wrist, only to stare at the angry skin underneath the shackles. Steve closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. _Tony, you idiot._

Steve was lucky it wasn’t one of those high-tech chains Tony had recently invented, or it would have taken him a lot longer getting them off. As soon as one of Peter’s wrists were free, Steve sent him another look. “Don’t try to escape,” he said, “If you do, it’s gonna take a lot longer to get you home.”

He wasn’t planning to make it sound as a threat, but it appears that Peter hadn’t noticed. Instead, the teenager’s eyes grew wide and stared back at Steve, looking so much like a kid who was promised to a new set of Legos—or whatever it is kids were into these days.

“You’re going to let me go?”

Peter hated how hopeful he sounds, he hated it so much. He wanted nothing but to rewind and delete the last few seconds that had happened, and yet all he could do was stare at the Avenger in front of him. He was already given false hope, he should know not to fall easily, and yet he did.

“Yes,” Steve said, “Yes we are.” He went to unchain the other wrist and frowned, remembering Fury’s words, “somehow,”

When Peter heard the last word, he immediately deflated. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself hope, how stupid of him.

He decided not to say anything, not trusting his voice.

“There,” Steve said as soon as Peter was shackles free, “It’s my turn now.”

Peter frowned at him, “You’re turn?”

“I gave you a favour,” Steve said, “It’s you turn to give me a favour.”

Peter’s frown deepened, “Right, favour.”

It was too late when Steve realized how stupid it must have sound. How can he ask him for a favour when the main reason that Peter was even there was because of them, it’s just so stupid.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that,” Steve reasoned.

Peter absentmindedly rubbed his wrists, “I don’t really care.”

 _Well this is off to a good start,_ Steve thought grimly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally! An insite of how the Avengers feel about the situation. Do you think their actions were immature or justifiable? 
> 
> I hope I didn't screw up with the characters. Writing differect characteristics are really hard, especially if you didn't make them. Seriously I know I already mentioned this on the previous chapter, but I really look up to those who write different characters flawlessly. 
> 
> Again, I am so floored with all your reactions and thoughts about this. Your comments makes my day. And honsetly, I did not think I'd reach this far, I mean more than 500 kudos?! Seriously?!
> 
> Anywho, to more important matters: I won't be able to update till the end of the month, or for the following month actually-honestly I'm still not sure how long. I'll be off the grid for a while-not my idea, blame this on the weird family tradition my family follows. Because I'm a weeny high school kid- and also because school just started here, my family thought It'd be a great idea to focus all my attention on the very first day of class-and it's the first day I mean who does that? (apparently if you're a transfer student)
> 
> Anyway, they will pretty much take away my internet privilages. I honestly can not think of any way to survive the following weeks.
> 
> But nonetheless, I shall immediately update as soon as my mother lifts off her ridiculous idea.


	6. It’s A Gordian Knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peter have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the last chapter I was still groping around with the situation on hand—because honestly I had no idea where the story was heading hahaha. I hoped that in this chapter I was able to elaborate it even more, because you know—I was finally able to think about the plot and all.

Peter have always been a massive fan of the Avengers, even when he was being chased a few days ago of the said team. The amount of Avenger t-shirts he owned was embarrassing per say. And now, he hates himself for looking up to them even at this moment.

They were the cause of having his powers in shambles, they didn’t bother listening to his side of the story, and they did surgery on him while he was awake—which was beyond crazy because getting your wounds disinfected was dreadful enough, a surgery on a conscious person is a fucking nightmare. 

Given, he did himself no justice by webbing up the two Avengers when they first met, or running away from them every single time, or the fact that he hadn’t bothered to explain himself. But he went through so much and because of what? Because of the opinion of a stupid newspaper, or the stupid morning news?

He’s been on the receiving end of the news outlet for almost a year, why does it matter now?

Technically, he’s just doing the same thing the Avengers are doing, he’s just helping those they can’t reach. He knew being a vigilante and getting on the wrong side of the police every once in a while isn’t what you can say right, but again it’s been a year. Does it even matter anymore?

But now, as he stared at Captain America, it appears that it does.

“So, um,” Peter started, “What do you want?”

He may be angry at them, but Captain freaking America is standing in front of him, you can’t blame him for being a little nervous. Something he finds very infuriating about himself.

“I just want to talk,” The American hero said.

“I think we’ve established that,” he wanted it to come off as sarcastic, but it sounded more like he’s intimidated with the Avenger’s very presence—which doesn’t work well with what he had just said.

The older man sighed, “Let’s start off with something basic, you know, breaking off the ice,” He paused, “You mind if I?” He gestured at the ridiculous space left on Peter’s bed.

Peter shrugged in reply.

The bed dipped when the other man sat as Peter mentally cursed himself for pushing himself further at the edge of the bed, pulling his knees closer to his chest. He was appearing so weak when he shouldn’t be, he’s Spider-Man for heaven’s sake.

“Got any name kid?” Cap asked, ignoring how Peter tried to put as much space between them.

“’m not a kid,” was Peter’s first reply, he’s a few months away from being able to apply for a driver’s license and he found it unfair that he’s still being called a kid over and over again.

“Right, of course,” He vaguely remembered Bruce’s words back at the meeting. “Your name then.”

Peter frowned, “Shouldn’t you already know?”

He shrugged, “Even so, it’s still nice to be able to tell your name right?”

“In a situation like this? Not really,” Peter replied.

 _Well, this is harder than I thought,_ Captain America thought grimly. “Nonetheless, I’m Steve, it’d be nice if you just call me that,” Captain America, Steve, offered a smile which Peter obviously did not offer back. “You a born New Yorker?”

Peter just nodded. He can’t wrap his mind why Captain America, or Steve, was dragging the conversation when he was itching to get to the point. Somehow, Peter knew it was the older man’s way to loosen the tension, but he felt like he’s being treated like a four-year-old, and it didn’t help one bit.

“I’m from Brooklyn, you?” Steve asked.

Peter just stared at him.

The other man waited for a response, but for the next few seconds he didn’t get any. The awkward atmosphere between the two was becoming very thick, Peter’s sure he could touch it. It appears that the small talk was making things worse, not the other way around. Peter, for once, was proud knowing that he’s making the other man agitated.

_Who wouldn’t anyway? This is Captain freaking America._

Steve absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck, “You planning to answer that or…?” Talking to criminals were easy, an innocent kid? Not so much.

“Queens,” Peter immediately answered, but he was looking at him weirdly that was between _are you joking me and wait, is he serious?_ “But, shouldn’t you—well, know that already?” Steve closed his eyes and sighed, Peter bit back a smirk _bingo_. His base of operation had always been in Queens, where else would he possibly be living in? Any amateur investigator should have known that little information, it would be a joke if Captain America himself doesn’t know. 

“You’re worse than Dr Banner,” Peter commented.

“Son, if you’re not aware, I don’t usually interrogate ki—” Steve stopped and cleared his throat. “I don’t usually interrogate people that are younger than me.”

Peter raised a challenging brow, “Everyone’s younger than you.”

Steve opened his mouth, only to close it again. “Now I know how Banner feels,” he said after the third time he failed to say something.

Steve was obviously trying his best to avoid any subject that Peter isn’t fond off, but it was just making the conversation a lot harder. And he’s not going to lie, Peter wasn’t making it any easier for him. They gave him a hard time, it was his turn to give them a hard time.

He was being immature, he knew it. Doing this would just make his imprisonment way longer. But he wanted payback, nobody can blame him.

“I can’t blame you, being a hundred-year-old man has some side effects,” He said like it’s just an offhand comment, “like dementia and loss of wit.”

Steve didn’t reply immediately, he just stared at Peter with this look the teenager couldn’t read. If he was being honest, it was making him feel agitated. Had he picked a sensitive topic? Was his age something they shouldn’t talk about? Or did he just come off being too immature?

He had the sudden urge to run away from the Avenger as far as possible. Getting the other man feeling tense was short lived, Peter knew clashing with a super soldier was a little out of his comfort zone.

“You hungry, I think there’s leftover spaghetti from last night.”

Peter did a double take at the sudden change of topic. He knew it wasn’t that surprising, but the mere mention of food got his stomach growling like a lion. 

The super soldier didn’t miss it.

But…

“I just got out from surgery,” The mere mention of surgery made him flinch suddenly. The sad part was, it was him who mentioned it. He couldn’t be more pathetic.

Again, Steve didn’t miss the boy from flinching from his own words, Peter noticed. But the older man decided to ignore it, much to Peter annoyance—it was really making him feel like a kid, except a very small part of him was actually thankful about it.

“I’ll ask Bruce then,” Steve made a move to leave.

Peter wanted to say that Bruce wasn’t a medical doctor and asking him wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Sure he had some experience being that he became some sort of a doctor in some third world country before joining the Avengers, but he’s as much of a medical doctor as Stark being a ballerina.

But Peter was getting tired of the small talk, sure he’s starving, but the need to go home was stronger.

Also, saying that sounded so wrong when he himself is a fan of Banner’s work, even if he turned himself into a radioactive broccoli (Stark’s words) in the process.

“When can I go home?” he asked, just before Steve could reach the door.

Steve stopped, his hand half way from reaching the door knob, and turned to look at Peter. He opened his mouth, only to shut it again, as if contemplating something, before letting out the loudest exhale (Peter’s words) from him nose, and made his way back at Peter’s bed. “You just have to answer a few questions, then you’re free to go.”

Peter frowned, not that it was bad news, but he knew Steve wasn’t saying everything. “That sounds too good,” He said, “coming from the same man who said that I can ‘somehow’ go home.” He made sure to emphasize the word ‘somehow’.

“It depends on your answer.”

“You should have said I was gonna take a quiz, I should have studied,” Peter adjusted his position, folding his legs in an Indian sit as both of his hands rested on the triangle-shaped gap in between his thighs, his fists digging on the mattress. “Give me your best shot Mister Spangles.”

It was weird, Spider-Man’s snarky attitude never comes out until Peter put on his mask. Without it, he’s just a timid fifteen-year-old. But maybe it has something to do with knowing who he is behind the mask, maybe that’s why he can look at Captain America the same way he looks at him as Spider-Man.

“Why didn’t you try explaining yourself to us?” Peter opened his mouth to answer, but Steve continued on. “I get it, you tried it before, but no one listened. So you left notes, but not enough people bothered to read it. Still, you could have explained it to us, the Avengers.”

Peter stared at him, waiting if the older man was about to say anything else, when he didn’t Peter opened his mouth. “I grew tired of it,” he simply supplied. “I spent almost a year trying to explain myself, and besides at that moment, running away was the best option.”

“You know son, there’s a lot of things in your answer that proves that you also got this situation on yourself,” Steve said, he wasn’t blaming him, he was just saying facts.

“I know,” Peter said looking down on his hands, “A part of me thought you’d be able to see what some news outlets ignored—like stopping the Vulture from stealing from Mr Stark, and not that fact that I was helping him. But when you didn’t, I kinda assumed that explaining myself would be hopeless.”

Steve blinked, he never really thought about it. Stark’s business was his business, the thing about Vulture was never a big deal for Steve. It wasn’t his problem anyway, but knowing that the billionaire should have known that Spider-Man was, in fact, not completely menace, was something he should have brought up.

Steve made a point to talk to Stark as soon as he’s done with Peter.

“You could have at least tried,” Steve said.

Peter snorted, “That was not what I was expecting you to say,” he said. “You know, I did just said I helped one of the Avengers, I think I deserve more than that pathetic reaction.” He paused and assessed the older man’s expression, “So, what else do you have for me?”

Peter knew Steve was just going to keep telling him that he should have explained himself, and it was annoying him that Spangled hero was making it seem like everything was his fault. When he’s pretty aware he’s not the only one to blame.

Steve opened his mouth, but paused, as if having second thought. “Why are you doing this?” Steve finally asked, “You’re too young to be doing this kind of job. And if not handled well, things could happen. Like now.”

Peter stared back down on his hands, finding the question suddenly personal. He can’t let them know about Uncle Ben, that’s for sure, and for all he knew they already know about it. “It’s just that,” he paused, “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

For a moment, Steve wondered if he’s talking to a kid.

Suddenly it was too quiet, much to Peter’s annoyance. It’s not like what he said was that big of a deal. If he could stop a snatcher from stealing, why wouldn’t he when he can? If he could stop a robber from stealing, why would he ignore it? If he can stop them, why hold back?

Who cares if he’s a kid, if he could do it, why not?

For what felt like an eternity, Steve finally opened his mouth, “Son,” He said, “You’re just a kid.”

Peter opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Steve kept talking, “Fine, you’re right. If you can do it why would you stop yourself? I mean you’re talking to the guy who tried so hard to get in the army when he obviously can’t.” He paused, as if to assess his next words, “but at this day of age, you don’t know what could happen.

“Like now, we can’t just let you go that easily when we made a public announcement about catching you. Maybe not the citizen, but the people who thinks they control us will start questioning our motives. _Why did we let you go when we had finally caught you?_ We can’t choose that moment to tell them you mean well, if we did our own research before hand—maybe we’d have a chance. But if they realize we let you go the moment we got our hands on you, they’ll know something’s off.

“We can prove that you’re innocent and let you go—yes, but it won’t take long before they put matters in their own hands because you’re different. You’re enhanced, to them you’re a threat, no matter how hard you try to explain yourself.

“Us, we’re smart enough to believe you mean well. But you’re a kid, when those people finds out, things could turn for the worse.”

“Is being a kid so bad?” Peter asked, he knew he just addressed himself as a child when he was so adamant to prove them he’s not, but things were getting really different.

“Being a kid makes everything different. You’re vulnerable, those people can take you away. The only explanation why they told us to get you is because they’re not aware of your real age,” Steve said. “We could barely defend Wanda because she’s young. But you, you’re too young.”

“So what, are you that scared?” Peter asked, anger flaming inside his chest, “You’ve faced worst, this is just—”

“Son, we can’t take risks at the moment,” Steve interrupted, “Everyone, and I meant everyone, thinks we can’t handle in defending them anymore. And I sure hope you know why.”

Peter wanted to argue back, it wasn’t his fault S.H.E.I.L.D turns out to be Hydra, it wasn’t his fault a lot of people died in Sokovia, and wasn’t his fault people are doubting them. But who is he kidding, they won’t risk anything for a kid like him. He’s nothing to them, and that nothing just placed them in a shitty situation.

The higher people thinks he’s a threat, the Avengers have some publicity issues that aren’t gone yet, and he got himself in the middle of it all. The only option was…

“Are you telling me to give up my identity?” Peter asked. It makes sense, the higher people won’t be able to reach him, because he’s a kid, they can’t possibly take them when the world knows about him.

The reply he received was something he wasn’t expecting, Steve laughed, “I hoped that was the only option.”

Peter cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“I told you, S.H.E.I.L.D. can’t have any more bad publicity, and we work with S.H.E.I.L.D.” Steve explained, “If the world finds out we manhandled a kid, well…” he sighed.

“I don’t get it,” Peter frowned, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Are you telling me you’re trapped?”

Steve didn’t reply immediately, “Not entirely, there’s always a way out, but someone has to end up paying for everything.”

It made sense, if the Avengers tells the higher ups that Spider-Man’s a kid and they wouldn’t like to take part of it, they would be off the hook, but Peter won’t because those higher ups would handle him instead. If they don’t tell them he’s a kid, or any other reasons why they’d let him go, then the higher ups won’t trust them. If they tell the world he’s a kid, the people won’t trust the Avengers.

“It’s a Gordian knot.”

Steve did a double take. “A what?”

“I mean,” Peter licked his lips, finding them really dry. “You don’t have any clue how to fix this mess without a bad finale.”

His comment should have made the atmosphere heavy, it sure as hell should not have made the super soldier laugh. Peter frowned, the laugh was short lived, as if he just remembered a joke he heard a long time ago. But laughing at a situation like this was confusing.

Peter just continued to frown at the Avenger.

It took a moment before Steve noticed that the teenager was giving him a weird look, “Sorry son,” He cleared his throat. “But you practically said the same thing a colleague of mine just said, just a little less indecent,” he said remembering Fury’s words.

“Oh,” Then no one spoke after that.

It was obvious they were trying to avoid the same question nagging at the back of their heads. The question that has been hanging in the air ever since Steve entered the room. The same question Fury was asking them before they ended the meeting, the same question Steve was itching to ask himself.

But it was Peter who asked, “What are we gonna do now?”

The fact that he included himself made Steve a little… weird. The kid still believes he has the same responsibility as the others. But then again, in some ways, it’s true. But to Steve, he shouldn’t even be held responsible to anything.

If they did their own background check on Peter, they would have had a fighting chance with letting the wall crawler roam freely in Queens. But they didn’t, they decided to just go with it and commence the operation. How Stark manages to win most of the time without any plan of some sort is beyond him.

“That’s why I’m talking to you,” Steve said, “We believed that if you explain yourself, maybe we could think of a way out. But this talk was just a repeat of our meeting. Which did nothing but to remind us that we screwed up.”

Peter’s eyes grew a bit, and Steve wondered if he said anything weird.

“You alright son?”

Peter blinked a couple of times before shaking his head. Captain America just cursed, and it appears he’s not even aware of it. That’s something you don’t see every day. I smile was slowly creeping up to his lips.

Then he frowned.

Shouldn’t he be hating the Avengers? They practically told him they were as reckless as him, in fact, they actually admitted that they were the ones that messed things up. Sure, Peter wasn’t entirely blameless, but the realization that they could have avoided this mess with just a simple background research—something they’re good at for the love of god, was practically the cause of everything was something he couldn’t ignore.

Steve noticed this immediately. “I get that didn’t helped with how you look at us,” he said.

Peter was giving his best not to say ‘No shit, Sherlock’, but instead he kept his mouth shut and glared at the white sheets of the bed because, for some reasons, it wasn’t true. 

He was angry, but not at that fact.

He was angry because until now he still looks up to them. He realized that the original plan of ignoring him was short lived. He was angry because he had to realize that he should be angry about the situation.

He wanted to be angry at them, and he wanted to show that.

But it wasn’t working, so he stayed quiet.

He didn’t know how long he didn’t open his mouth, in fact he just stayed there and ignored Steve altogether. The situation reminded him of Bruce, having had the same situation just a moments ago. And like Bruce, Steve just stayed there, but instead of keeping him company, it was as if the older man was waiting for something.

He didn’t pry Peter, but it was obvious he was bothered with the sudden quietness, or maybe he’s bothered because he was wasting time.

Finally, Peter realized not saying anything was ridiculous, “I wanna go home.”

Steve just stared at Peter, as if he was having a hard time that the kid finally said something. But before he could answer, the teenager caught something weird at the corner of his eyes, something happening behind the Avenger.

Looking up, Peter eyes popped out from his sockets. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed jumping up from the bed and pressing himself on the wall as a violet man materialized from the wall, a glowing stone residing at the middle of his forehead.

If Peter knew no better, he would have thought an alien life form had just barged inside the room. It took him a full second to realize that the intruder was another Avenger. But that didn’t change anything, he was still glued on the wall, a few feet away from touching the ceiling. The IV that was connected on his right arm screamed in irritation as the tube stretched.

A part of him was angry that his spider sense did not alert him about it, even if it’s not technically danger it was still able to give him a mini heart attack.

Steve looked at Peter curiously before turning to where Peter was staring wide-eyed. As soon as he laid his eyes on the floating man he sighed. “Vision, knock,” he said, as if this was a normal occasion.

Okay, maybe Vision’s habit with the walls _is_ a normal occasion.

“My apologies sir,” He said. “But director Fury wants to talk to you, it appears that we acquired a slight problem.”

“You sure it can’t wait?” Steve asked, gesturing at Peter. “I’m busy.”

Peter heard frantic footsteps coming towards his room, it was still far, but it was increasingly gaining speed.

He half expected to see Nick Fury barging inside any minute, but as soon as the door swung open, he was greeted with the image of Stark for the second time that day. He was running, obviously, but he did a good job of hiding it.

Stark’s hand was still holding the door knob as he assessed the situation he’s seeing: Steve sitting on the bed, Vision standing beside the wall, and Peter clinging on the wall for dear life.

Peter noted that the situation would have looked fine if he wasn’t glued on the wall.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Stark said.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to explain,” Steve said.

“Sorry for the interruption, but—” Vision started.

“So remember when I said I was searching for a way for this—well whatever this is, wouldn’t explode in our faces?” Stark injected, ignoring Vision.

Steve frowned, not liking where the situation was heading. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Vision glanced between the two Avengers before glancing at the glued teenager, “Sirs—” he started again, and if possible, his voice laced a sliver of irritation.

Peter had no idea what was happening, but something tells him it has something to do with him.

“And remember how that kid has school and the priority is to get him home tonight?” Stark continued, his hand gesturing at the said teen.

Peter raised a brow. _Yup, I have something to do in this._

“I don’t like where this is heading,” Steve said standing up from the bed.

“Can I ask a question?” Peter asked from the wall, he was ignored.

“Well, I tried talking to the kid’s aunt, you know, tell her about the situation with a little bit of lying and stuff,” Peter inhaled sharply at what the billionaire had just said.

He couldn’t help himself. “You told my aunt about this?” he exclaimed

He was ignored again.

“Stark, Get to the point,” Steve ordered, his arms crossed over his chest. The mere mention of talking to May got Steve’s full unwavering attention, and if looks could kill, Stark would have been dead the minute he said ‘aunt’.

“Last names huh, you know this is a sign that you’re not liking the situation,” Stark commented. Steve’s glare intensified.

“It would be really be—” Vision started again.

“Please tell me you did not act on your own accords again,” Steve was shooting daggers, or rather invincible laser beams that Stark seemed to be immune to.

Stark stared at Steve for a few moments, ignoring Vision. “I told the kid’s aunt he got tangled in some Avenger’s business and that he’s injured,” he confessed, “She’s currently in the building.”

Peter wanted to pass out at the spot.

Then again, it may just be hunger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack, have you all missed me?
> 
> Anyway, I'm not so sure if I'll be able to post regularly. My mom and i had an agreement and now I have to follow a schedule when using the internet, or my laptop. I know it may sound like I'm kid, but I guess that's what you get for being an Asian.
> 
> Anyway, 700 kudos!!??!! Guys I'm crying hahahaha! I love you all so much!
> 
> Comment and leave a Kudos!


	7. Too Late for That, Isn’t It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day could be longer than you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been sitting in my laptop for weeks, I'm so sorry for the humongous delay.

If Peter’s classmates would describe May Parker in one word, it would be: sweet.

She tries to cook like her life depends on it—but being the loving aunt she is Peter decided that the lack of culinary skills was a small price to pay, and besides, almost everyone in New York lives in take-out. A little paranoid, yes, but that all started when Uncle Ben died. How many times she told Peter she loves him was impossible to count, and if Peter hadn’t grown out of it or decided that it’s embarrassing, May wouldn’t have stopped giving Peter a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

But every once in a while she could be batshit crazy, and could probably swear like a soldier.

When Peter heard she was in the building, he knew he’ll be grounded for the rest of his life.

“You told my aunt I’m Spider-Man?!” Peter screeched, ignoring that fact that his voice went into four different octaves.

Finally, one of them actually acknowledged his presence.

“What part of ‘tangled in some Avenger’s business’ made you think I told your aunt you’re Spider-Man?” Tony asked, his arms crossing over his chest. “It’s like you’re not even listening.”

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“Uh everything,” Peter snapped. Hey, he might have warmed up a bit at Captain America—and yes he’s pretty much still a fan of their group, but that doesn’t mean he’s not angry at them anymore. “Tangled in some Avenger business? I’m pretty sure Spider-Man’s on the Avenger’s naughty list.”

How he was still able to snap at them was beyond him.

“How were you even able to do that in less than an hour?” Steve demanded. “This has got to be a record.”

“I’m starting to think that your time in the ice screwed up your time management—seriously no one wakes up at five in the mourning anymore, because I don’t think three hours is even close to being an hour long,” Tony replied.

_It’s been three hours?_

This is the reason why windows and wall clocks are necessary.

“It’s already dinner time, Rogers,” The billionaire said as if it was going to help. “You told me the kid’s got the school—”

“'m not a kid!”

“—and considering that you’re so-called talk isn’t gonna get a lot quicker than you trying to understand Star Wars, I had no other choice but to put this on my own hands. Don’t look at me like that, you told me the quicker the better. I was all for the idea of taking it slow remember?”

“I didn’t say you rush it!” Steve countered.

“Where’s my aunt?” Peter demanded, still pretty much glued on the wall. He may not like the idea that his last living relative is in a compound where the people there knows he’s Spider-Man and could pretty much share that specific knowledge to her, but the idea of her alone with them is much more terrifying. 

He was ignored, well probably. Technically, his question was answered.

“Director Fury is currently talking to May Parker,” Vision finally said, and if possible, he was annoyed. It was weird, considering that the guy’s an android. Then again, he has been trying to talk for a while now. “And he wishes for Captain Roger’s presence for the assist.”

“She already found Fury?” Tony asked twirling to Vision. “I told her to stay in the reception area.”

“She did, though you didn’t express any indication for her to stay quiet,” Tony groaned, “And she wasn’t exactly difficult to miss.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fury’s going to give me hell.”

Peter didn’t know what happened next. One minute the room held four people, the next minute Peter was clinging on the wall by himself.

Closing his eyes, he listened for anything, anything to indicate his aunt was safe. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that he found himself in a situation with no good outcome, and now his aunt was adding herself in the list of ‘shitty things that happen to Peter because of his shitty Parker luck’.

 _Please,_ Peter begged. He had no idea what he was begging for at this point. Maybe for his aunt not to know, or to find a way out of the sticky mess, or maybe to go back in time and change everything to avoid leading to his current situation. Right at that moment, he could be begging for anything.

He didn’t know how he ended up back on the bed, maybe he grew tired and let himself fall, but nonetheless, Peter found himself glaring at the white sheets of the bed.

He stared at the forgotten shackles on the floor and laughed grimly. Now that he had a better chance to escape, he realized he can’t really leave with his aunt still in the building. _This sucks so badly._

He heard frantic footsteps, but he couldn’t bother himself to care. The door banged open and it took Peter everything to stop himself from jumping up the ceiling and clinging there for the rest of his life.

“Peter!”

He was engulfed in a hug before he could register that his aunt was here, in front of him. Not Captain America, not Vision, but his aunt.

_But…_

“Wha—what are—” he thought Fury was talking to her.

“Oh my god, are you okay, are you hurt? Oh my god, you are hurt!” She grabbed both sides of Peter’s face and studied her nephew, only for him to notice that there were tears streaming from her eyes.

For a moment Peter thought he stopped breathing.

He hardly ever sees her cry in front of him, the last instance was when uncle Ben died, and since then he promised himself not to make her cry. He should have realized that with a luck like his, he can’t really keep promises.

“I'm alright, aunt May ‘m alright,” Peter replied, trying to act like everything was fine and dandy when it isn’t. Everything was falling apart, this was not supposed to happen, any of this. But he can’t afford to be weak, not right now. 

Peter tried to give her a smile but it must’ve passed more of a wince as she engulfed him in another hug. “Please, please, please don’t you ever do that again, never again, understood?”

His eyes landed on the figure standing by the doorway. Fury was staring at him, and being a guy with one eye working, Peter was a little annoyed that he found himself admiring Fury’s ability to look intimidating. If looks could kill, no one should make it possible for this guy to have two working eyes, just one could probably be fatal enough.

But Fury’s eye was holding a different story, he wasn’t really glaring at Peter, it was something else. And Peter couldn’t read it.

He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Parker,” he said.

Peter immediately felt his aunt stiffen as his spider-sense prickled at the back of his head, it wasn’t alerting him for any upcoming casualties, it was more of a warning.

“Whatever you do, don’t say anything,” May whispered as she furiously turned to glare at Fury.

Peter would really want a time machine right about now.

“I’m leaving,” May said. “With my nephew.”

Fury gave no reaction as if he was expecting that this would happen—which might actually be right.

Peter heard another set of frantic footsteps, and suddenly Tony and Steve joined the little get together. Tony gave one glance at Peter, then at his furious aunt, before looking at Fury. The man, in return, glared at the billionaire, as if to tell him that this was all his fault.

Peter would like to agree with that statement, but looking back at the cause of their current situation, everyone was at fault here. Peter’s not that much of an idiot not to acknowledge it.

“Mrs. Parker,” Tony started.

“We’re. Leaving.” May seethed as she grabbed hold of Peter’s wrist.

For once, Peter was following May’s orders not because he needs to, but because he couldn’t really get himself to say anything. The day hasn’t ended yet and a lot had already happened. No—that’s not right, for the past three days, everything was a whirlwind of disasters. So much in so little time.

Three days ago, he was Spider-Man.

Now, he’s stuck in a situation stickier than glue.

“I understand your concerns, Mrs. Parker, but you’re not looking at the full picture here, you can’t just take him—” Tony said.

“Stark,” Steve hissed.

May laughed humorlessly, “if anyone had no rights take my kid it’s the lot of you!”

“We were just doing our job ma’am, we meant no harm,” Steve said.

“Too late for that, isn’t it?” May hissed.

“Mrs. Parker,” Fury cut in, “Taking Mr. Peter,” Peter’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he registered the sudden weird address of his name. “Is the worst decision you might do tonight” _tonight?_ Peter thought as his eyebrows disappeared under his bangs. “You will have your nephew back, but future unwanted repercussions must be addressed.”

Fury was staring at Peter the whole time he talked as if he was trying to convey something with his eyes. But Peter was too confused to register what the older man was trying to say to him. His brain was telling him to ignore him, stay angry with them, cling at May and go home. Honestly, he would have done that if not for what Steve had told him earlier.

God, taking his GPA suddenly looks much more appealing, and he’s still in his freshman year!

And then, it clicked.

“Aunt May,” Peter said, his voice barely a whisper, but everyone still heard him.

As soon as four pairs of eyes stared at him he felt like curling up into a ball and stay like that forever.

Immediately, May cupped his nephew’s face, “Yes sweetie?” she asked her voice turning a hundred and eighty from being terrifying.

He met Fury’s eye one last time before turning back to look at his aunt and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

He wet his lips, suddenly finding them very dry. He really hates lying to May, but he’s been doing it for months anyway. “I think you should listen to them,” he finally said.

May looked at him and Peter couldn’t figure out what kind of expression she was wearing. Angry? Confused? Scared? Peter’s not really sure. “Peter,” she said, “You don’t have to do this, you don’t always have to act strong.”

Peter swallowed, she wouldn’t really understand.

“Aunt May, you know I love you,” Peter said, clutching the hand cupping her face, “So please, trust me.”

May stared at Peter, searching his eyes, and Peter held his breath, hopefully, she’ll take that as a good sign. Peter must’ve hidden it pretty well as May begrudgingly let go of Peter's face and kissed his forehead. “Okay,” She murmured against his skin.

She turned to the three other people in the room and one of his hands on her hips. “What is it that you need to tell me?”

“Great then,” Stark said, cutting off whatever it is Fury was about to say, “As my colleague expresses the situation to you, I’ll be needing to talk to Peter, alone.”

Peter blinked, granted he wasn’t even aware of whatever plan it is they’re planning to feed his aunt to cover up the real situation, but with Stark’s actions earlier, it became really apparent that talking to him was not at the top of his list.

Apparently, the other two wasn’t aware of this sudden decision as they both turned their heads at the billionaire and stared.

“Should I remind you that you were the one that told Mrs. Parker about Peter’s current situation,” Fury said, obviously trying his best not to growl. “And you, out of everyone, knows more about it.”

It was an obvious message that meant _‘Are you expecting me to make up a bunch of lies on the spot when you started this?_ And maybe throw in a handful of swear words.

“You’re right, I do know more about it, that is why I need to explain the situation that Peter got himself in more thoroughly, he only got the basic information,” which meant _sucks to be you_. “Mrs. Parker would just need the basic ones, once I told Peter the whole situation, then we’ll tell her everything.” Which meant, _Now go already._

Okay, maybe Tony’s translation was a bit exaggerated, but you get the point.

May turned to look at Peter as he nodded, a clear message that she should just follow them. _God, I hope I’m doing the right thing._

* * *

Peter blinked at the billionaire in front of him, everything about the situation just screams: What?

The man standing before him was the one that placed him in chains, the one that brought him here, and the one that brought his aunt here. Suddenly that meme about Mr. Stark and his continuous wrong decisions ever since Ultron happened flashed inside his head.

“Hello Peter,” Stark said, standing like a million bucks (billion).

Peter didn’t reply, if he gave Captain America the silent treatment at first, he couldn't see any problem as to why Stark shouldn't receive the same treatment. He should probably eceive much worse actually.

The older man doesn’t seem fazed by Peter’s response, or his lack of response, rather. “Spangles gave you the complete run down?” He asked.

Again, no reply.

Tony sighed and ran a hand over his face, that made him look a lot older than he is, the stress was evidently obvious on his face. “Okay, this is useless, I should probably head to the point right?”

Peter unconsciously rubbed the sore skin of his wrist, “yeah, probably.”

Tony exhaled as he stared at the kid before looking around. “This is a joke right?” He said as he surveyed the room, looking for something. “Not one chair? Are they kidding me?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” Peter said, he really just couldn’t help himself anymore. “You’re the one that placed me here after all.”

Tony immediately stopped and slowly turned to Peter. “You know kid—”

“’m not a kid.”

“—that really hits right on the spot.” He said, ignoring Peter’s little comment, then smiled a sad smile.

Peter should be pissed, he really should be, but something in him must’ve grown tired. He couldn’t really care anymore, and yet he still cared enough he wants to stay angry at the Avengers. Maybe whatever drugs that they shot isn’t really that gone in his system yet.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic to strawberries.”

Peter blinked, “Uh, no, not really.”

“Oh, good, I think I still have that box of strawberries I bought for Pepper,” He said. “Do you like eight years old berries?”

Peter just stared at him, “What do you really want to talk about?”

Tony snorted a soft sound and leaned on the wall behind him. 

He assessed Peter and tilted his head a little bit. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, like a lot, your brain would probably explode if you ever try doing it. It’s the only thing that I can come up with without raising a lot of eyebrows with this stupid situation we got ourselves in, and honestly, it’s the only option we have, unless you’re willing to give yourself up to WSC, which obviously would never happen, and—” he cut himself abruptly as Peter stared at him with eyes that most teenagers use when they were obviously losing interest.

He pushed himself off the wall. “What I meant is, how would you feel staying at the Avenger’s tower?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! No I'm not dead, but it surely feels like it. I have no I idea why i took calculus, it's killing the few brain cells that I have.
> 
> God, I'm so sorry for the delay, and honestly I have no excuse, I was just really lazy (and probably because when I get home I'm dead to the world). But holy crabs, we're almost at 1k kudos! I love you guys so much! No seriously, I love you! You guys are so awesome! 
> 
> Also, if you're interested, check out my other story, it's called Coincidence. It's an Avengers Fic, and no, our cute little Spider won't be there. *dodges rotten fruit* I know i should have updated this instead of writing a new story, but it just fell onto my head one morning at school and it just won't leave me alone.
> 
> Just to put it out there, I know a lot of you have noticed the grammatical mistakes that litters my story. Past me would've spent hours rereading everyword just to track down ever mistake. But present me just grew tired of it, because no matter how many times I tried to correct everything, they're always there. I even use grammarly now. (SHOUT OUT TO THE USER THAT ADVICED IT TO ME! I forgot their name and I'm too lazy to scroll around the old comments... please don't leave me XD)
> 
> Anyway, stay awesome and please leave a comment and a kudos :)


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